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Benjamin Franklin. 1 




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Library of C»n« 
'wo COPlfS RtCfWEO 

' SEP 1 1900 

C»^yf<ght entry 

no.. &^Qjrtf, 
SECOND copy. 

OHDtfi DIVISION, 

LSEP 5 1900 



Copyright, 1900, by W. b. Conkey Company. 



74151 



LIFE 

or 

DR. FRANKLIN. 



My DEiB SOK, 

I HAVE amused myself with collecting some 
little anecdotes of my family. You may re- 
member the inquiries I made, when you were 
with me in England, among such of my rela- 
tions as were then living ; and the journey 1 
undertook for that purpose. To be ac- 
quainted with the particulars of my parent- 
age and life, many of which are unknown to 
you, I flatter myself will aflford the same 
pleasure to you as to me. I shall relate them 
upon paper : it will be an agreeable employ- 
ment of a week's uninterrupted leisure, which 
I promise myself during my present retire- 
ment in the country. There are also other 
motives which induce me to the undertakinir. 



4 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

From the bosom of poverty and obscurity, in 
which I drew my first breath, and spent my 
earliest years, I have raised myself to a state 
of opulence and to some degree of celebrity 
in the world. A constant good fortune has 
attended me through every period of life to 
my present advanced age ; and my descend- 
ants may be desirous of learning what were 
the means of which I made use, and which, 
thanks to the assisting hand of Providence, 
have proved so eminently successful. They 
may, also, should they ever be placed in a 
similar situation, derive some advantage from 
my narrative. 

When I reflect, as I frequently do, upon 
the felicity I have enjoyed, I sometimes say 
to myself, that were the offer made true, I 
would engage to nm again, from beginning 
to end, the same career of life. All I would 
ask, should be the privilege of an author, to 
correct, in a second edition, certain errors of 
the first. I could wish, likewise, if it were 
in my power, to change some trivial inci- 
dents and events for others more favorable. 
Were this, however, denied me, still would I 
not decline the ofier. But since a repetition 



MPE OP DR. FRANKLIN. 5 

of life cannot take place, there is nothing 
which, in my opinion, so nearly resembles it, 
as to call to mind all its circumstances, and, 
to render their remembrance more durable, 
commit them to writing. By thus employing 
myself, I shall yield to the inclination so nat- 
ural in old men, to talk of themselves and 
their exploits, and may freely follow my 
bent, without being tiresome to those who, 
from respect to my age, might think them- 
selves obliged to listen to me ; as they will 
be at liberty to read me or not as they please. 
In fine — and I may as well avow it, since 
nobody would believe me were I to deny it 
— I shall, perhaps, by this employment, grat- 
ify my vanity. Scarcely, indeed, have I ever 
heard or read the introductory phrase, " / 
may say without vanity ^^ but some striking 
and characteristic instance of vanity has im- 
mediately followed. The generality of men 
hate vanity in others, however strongly they 
may be tinctured with it themselves : for my- 
self, I pay obeisance to it wherever I meet 
with it, persuaded that it is advantageous, as 
well to the individual whom it governs, as to 
those who are within the sphere of its influ- 



6 LIFE OP DB. FRANKLIN. 

ence. Of consequence, it would, in many 
cases, not be wholly absurd, that a man 
should count his vanity among the other 
sweets of life, and give thanks to Providence 
for the blessing. 

And here let me with all humility acknowl- 
edge, that to Divine Providence I am in- 
debted for the felicity I have hitherto en- 
joyed. It is that power alone which has 
furnished me with the means I have em- 
ployed, and that has crowned them with suc- 
cess. My faith, in this respect, leads me to 
hope, though I cannot count upon it, that the 
Divine goodness will still be exercised to- 
wards me, either by prolonging the duration 
of my happiness to the close of life, or by 
giving me fortitude to support any melan- 
choly reverse, which may happen to me, as 
to so many others. My future fortune is un- 
known but to Him in whose hand is our des- 
tiny, and who can make our very afflictions 
subservient to our benefit.. 

One of my uncles, desirous, like myself, of 
collecting anecdotes of our family, gave me 
some notes from which I have derived many 
particulars respecting our ancestors. From 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKUN. 7 

these I learn that they had lived in the same 
village (Eaton in Northamptonshire), upon a 
freehold of about thirty acres, for the space 
at least of three hundred years. How long 
they had resided there, prior to that period, 
my uncle had been unable to discover ; prob- 
ably ever since the institution of surnames, 
when they took the appellation of Franklin, 
which had formerly been the name of a par- 
ticular order of individuals.* 

This petty estate would not have sufficed 
for their subsistence, had they not added the 

* As a proof that Franklin was anciently the common 
name of an order or rank in England, see Judge For- 
tesque, Ddaudibtu legum Angl%<By written about the jeai 
1412, in which is the following passage, to show that 
good juries might easily be formed in any part of Eng- 
land : 

** Regio etiam ilia, ita respersa refertaque est jpom«- 
torihus terrarum et agrorum, quod in ea, villula tam par^ 
Ta reperiri non poterit, in qua non est est mtlet, armiger, 
vel pater-familias, qualis ibidem /ranArZm vulgariter nun- 
oupatur, magnisditatus possessionibus, nee non libere 
tenentes et alii valecti plurimi, suis patrimoniis suffici- 
entes, ad faciendum juratam, in forma prsenotata." 

** Moreover, the same country is so filled and replen- 
ished with landed menne, that therein so small a thorpe 
oannQt be found wherein dwelleth not a knight, an es- 
quire or such a householder as is there commonly called 



« LIFE OP DB. FRANKLIN. 

trade of blacksmith, which was perpetuated 
in the family down to my uncle's time, the 
eldest son having been uniformly brought up 
to this employment ; a custom which both he 
and my father observed with respect to their 
eldest sons. 

In the researches I made at Eaton, I found 
no account of their births, marriages, and 
deaths, earlier than the year 1555, the par- 
ish register not extending farther back than 
that period. This register informed me, that 
T was the youngest son of the youngest 
branch of the family, counting five genera- 
tions. My grandfather, Thomas, was born 
in 1598, lived at Eaton till he was too old to 

a franklin^ enriched with great possessions ; and also 
other freeholders and many yeomen, able for their live- 
lihood to make a jury in form aforementione<l." 

Old Translation. 
Chaucer too calls his country gentleman a franklin ; 
and, after describing his good housekeeping, thus j^»r- 
acterizes him : 

This worthy franklin bore a purse of silk 
Fixed to his girdle, white as morning milk ; 
Knight of the shire, first justice at the assii*^ 
To help the poor, the doubtful to advise. 
In all employments, generous, just he prove4 
Renown'd for courtesy, by all beloved. 



UPE OP DR. FRANKLIN. 9 

continue his trade, when he retired to Ban- 
bury, in^ Oxfordshire, where his son John, 
who was a dyer, resided, and with whom my 
father was apprenticed. He died, and was 
buried there : we saw his monument in 1758. 
His eldest son lived in the family house at 
Eaton, which he bequeathed, with the land 
belonging to it, to his only daughter, who, in 
concert with her husband, Mr. Fisher of 
Wellingborough, afterwards sold it to Mr. 
Estead, the present proprietor. 

My grandfather had four surviving sons, 
Thomas, John, Benjamin, and Josias. I shall 
give you such particulars of them as my mem- 
ory will furnish, not having my papers here, 
in which you will find a more minute account, 
if they are not lost during my absence. 

Thomas had learned the trade of a black- 
smith under his father; but, possessing a. 
good natural understanding, he improved it 
by study, at the solicitation of a gentleman 
of the name of Palmer, who was at that time 
the principal inhabitant of the village, and 
who encouraged, in like manner, all my un- 
cles to cultivate their minds. Thomas thus 
rendered himself competent to the functions 

2 Franklin 



10 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

of a country attorney ; soon became an es- 
sential personage in the affairs of the village ; 
and was one of the chief movers of every 
public enterprise, as well relative to the 
county as the town of Northampton. A va- 
riety of of remarkable incidents were told us 
of him at Eaton. After enjoying the esteem 
and patronage of Lord Halifax, he died Jan- 
uary 6, 1702, precisely four years before I 
was born. The recital that was made us of 
his life and character, by some aged persons 
of the village, struck you, I remember, as ex- 
traordinary, from its analogy to what you 
knew of myself. " Had he died," said you, 
"just four years later, one might have sup- 
posed a transmigration of souls." 

John, to the best of my belief, was brought 
up to the trade of a wool-dyer. 

Benjamin served his apprenticeship in Lon- 
don to a silk-dyer. He was an industrious 
man : I remember him well ; for, while I was 
a child, he joined my father at Boston, and 
lived for some years in the house with us. A 
particular affection had always subsisted be- 
tween my father and him ; and I was his 
godson. He arrived to a great age. He Ic-ft 



LIFE OF DR. FR/NKLIN. 11 

"behind him two quarto volumes of poems ia 
manuscript, consisting of little fugitive pieces 
addressed to his friends. He had invented a 
short-hand, which he taught me, but, having 
never made use of it, I have now forgotten 
it. He was a man of piety, and a constant 
attendant on the best preachers, whose ser- 
mons he took a pleasure in writing down ac- 
cording to the expeditory method he had de- 
vised. Many volumes were thus collected by 
him. He was also extremely fond of politics ; 
too much so, perhaps, for his situation. I 
lately found in London a collection which he 
had made of all the principal pamphlets rel- 
ative to public affairs, from the year 1641 to 
1717. Many volumes are wanting, as ap- 
pears by the series of numbers ; but there 
still remain eight in folio, and twenty-four in 
quarto and octavo. The collection had fallen 
into the hands of a second-hand bookseller, 
who, knowing me by having sold me some 
books, brought it to me. My uncle, it seems, 
had left it behind him on his departure for 
America, about fifty years ago. I found vari- 
ous notes of his writing in the margins. IIis 
grandson, Samuel, is now living at Boston. 



12 LIFE OP DR. FRANKLIN. 

Our humble family had early embraced the 
Reformation. They remained faithfully at- 
tached during the reign of Queen Mary, when 
they were in danger of being molested on ac- 
count of their zeal against popery. They had 
an English Bible, and, to conceal it the more 
securely, they conceived the project of fast- 
ening it, open, with packthreads across the 
leaves, on the inside of the lid of the ch:)se- 
stool. When my great-grandfather wished 
to read to his family, he reversed the lid of 
the close-«tool upon his knees, and passed the 
leaves from one side to the other, which were 
held down on each by the packthread. One 
of the children was stationed at the door, to 
give notice if he saw the proctor (an officer 
of the spiritual court) make his appearance ; 
in that case, the lid was restored to its place, 
with the Bible concealed under it as before. 
I had this anecdote from my uncle Benjamin. 

The whole family preserved its attachment 
to the Church of England till towards the 
close of the reign of Charles II. when certain 
ministers, who had been rejected as noncon- 
formists, having held conventicles in North- 
amptonshire, they were joined by Benjamin 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 13 

and Josias, who adhered to them ever after. 
The rest of the family continued in the epis- 
copal church. 

My father, Josias, married early in life. 
He went, with his wife and three children, 
to New England, about the year 1682. Con- 
venticles being at that time prohibited by 
law, and frequently disturbed, some consid- 
erable persons of his acquaintance deter- 
mined to go to America, where they hoped 
to enjoy the free exercise of their religion, 
and my father was prevailed on to accom- 
pany them. 

My father had also, by the same wife, four 
children born in America, and ten others by 
a second wife, making in all seventeen. I 
remember to have seen thirteen seated to- 
gether at his table, who all arrived at years 
of maturity, and were married. I was the 
last of the sons, and the youngest child, ex- 
cepting two daughters. I was born at Bos- 
ton, in New England. My mother, the sec- 
ond wife, was Abiah Folger, daughter of 
Peter Folger, one of the first colonists of 
New England, of whom Cotton Mather makes 
honorable mention, in his Ecclesiastical His- 

B 



14 LIFE OP DR. FRANKLIN, 

tory of that province, as " a pious and 
learned Unglishmariy** if I rightly recollect 
his expressions. I hav^ been told of his 
having written a variety of little pieces ; but 
there appears to be only one in print, which 
I met with many years ago. It was pub- 
lished in the year 1675, and is in familiar 
verse, agreeably to the taste of the times 
and the country. The author addresses him- 
self to the governors for the time being, 
speaks for liberty of conscience, and in favor 
of the anabaptists, quakers, and other sec- 
taries, who had suffered persecution. To 
this persecution he attributes the wars with 
the natives, and other calamities which af- 
flicted the country, regarding them as the 
judgments of God in punishment of so odi- 
ous an offence, and he exhorts the govern- 
ment to the repeal of laws so contrary to 
charity. The poem appeared to be written 
with a manly freedom and a pleasing sim- 
plicity. I recollect the six concluding lines, 
though I have forgotten the order of words 
of the two first ; the sense of which was, that 
bis censures were dictated by benevolence, 
and that, of consequence, he wished to be 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. JD 

known as the author; because, said he, I 
hate from my very soul dissimulation. 

From Sherbum,* where I dwell, 

I therefore put my name, 
Tour friend, who means jou well. 

Pbtxb Folgbb. 

My brothers were all put apprentices to 
different trades. With respect to myself, I 
was sent, at the age of eight years, to a 
grammar-school. My father destined me for 
the church, and already regarded me as the 
chaplain of my family. The promptitude 
with which from my infancy I had learned 
to read, for I do not remember to have been 
ever without this acquirement, and the en- 
couragement of his friends, who assured him 
that I should one day certainly become a 
man of letters, coniBrmed him in this design. 
My uncle Benjamin approved also of the 
scheme, and promised to give me all his vol- 
umes of sermons, written, as I have said, in 
the short-hand of his invention, if I would 
take the pains to learn it. 

I remained, however, scarcely a year at 

* Town in the island of Nantucket 



16 LIFE OP DR. FRANKLIN. 

the grammar-school, although, in this short 
interval, I had risen from the middle to the 
head of my class, from thence to the class 
immediately above, and was to pass, at the 
end of the year, to the one next in order. 
But my father, burdened with a numerous 
family, found that he was incapable, without 
subjecting himself to difficulties, of providing 
for the expenses of a collegiate education; 
and considering, besides, as I heard him say 
to his friends, that persons so educated were 
often poorly provided for, he renounced his 
first intentions, took me from the grammar- 
school, and sent me to a school for writing 
and arithmetic, kept by a Mr. George Brown- 
well, who was a skilful master, and succeeded 
very well in his profession by employing gen- 
tle means only, and such as were calculated 
to encourage his scholars. Under him I soon 
acquired an excellent hand ; but I failed in 
arithmetic, and made therein no sort of pro- 
gress. 

At ten years of age, I was called home to 
assist my father in his occupation, which was 
that of a soapboiler and tallowchandler ; a 
business to which he had served no appren- 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 17 

ticeship, but which he embraced on his ar- 
rival in New England, because he found his 
own, that of dyer, in too little request to 
enable him to maintain his family. I was 
accordingly employed in cutting the wicks, 
filling the moulds, taking care of the shop, 
carrying messages, &c. 

This business displeased me, and I felt a 
strong inclination for a sea life; but my 
father set his face against it. The vicinity 
of the water, however, gave me frequent op- 
portunities of venturing myself both upon 
and within it, and I soon acquired the art of 
swimming, and of managing a boat. When 
embarked with other children, the helm was 
commonly deputed to me, particularly on 
difficult occasions ; and, in every other pro- 
ject, I was almost always the leader of the 
troop, whom I sometimes involved in embar- 
rassments. I shall give an instance of this, 
which demonstrates an early disposition of 
mind for public enterprises, though the one 
in question was not conducted by justice. 

The millpond was terminated on one side 
by a marsh, upon the borders of which we 
were accustomed to take our stand, at hi2:h 



18 LIFE OF DR. FRANKIJN. 

water, to angle for small fish. By dint of 
walking, we had converted the place into a 
perfect quagmire. My proposal w^as to erect 
a wharf that should aflford us firm footing ; 
and I pointed out to my companions a large 
heap of stones, intended for the building a 
new house near the marsh, and which were 
well adapted for our purpose. Accordingly, 
when the workmen retired in the evening, I 
assembled a number of my play-fellows, and 
by laboring diligently, like ants, sometimes 
four of us uniting our strength to carry a 
single stone, w^e removed them all, and con- 
structed our little quay. The workmen were 
surprised the next morning at not finding 
their stones; which had been conveyed to 
our wharf. Inquiries were made respecting 
the authors of this conveyance ; we were dis- 
<;overed; complaints were exhibited against 
us ; and many of us underwent correction on 
the part of our parents ; and though I stren- 
uously defended tlie utility of tlie work, my 
father at length convinced me, that nothing 
which was not strictly honest could be useful. 
It will not, perhaps, be uninteresting to 
jou to know what sort of a man my father 



LIFE OF BR. FRANKLIN. 19 

was. He had an excellent constitution, was 
of a middle size, but well made and strong, 
and extremely active in whatever he under- 
took. He designed with a degree of neat- 
ness, and knew a little of music. His voice 
was sonorous and agreeable; so that when 
he sung a psalm or hymn, with the accompa- 
niment of his violin, as was his frequent 
practice in an evening, when the labors of 
the day were finished, it was truly delightful 
to hear him. He was versed also in me- 
chanics, and could, upon occasion, use the 
tools of a variety of trades. But his great- 
est exceilence was a sound understanding 
and solid judgment, in matters of prudence, 
both in public and private life. In the 
former indeed he never engaged, because 
his numerous family, and the mediocrity of 
his fortune, kept him unremittingly employed 
in the duties of his profession. But I well 
remember, that the leading men of the place 
used frequently to come and ask his advice 
respecting the affairs of the town, or of the 
church to which he belonged, and that they 
paid much deference to his opinion. Indi- 
viduals were also in the habit of consulting 



20 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

him in their private affairs, and he was often 
chosen arbiter between contending parties. 

He was fond of having at his table, as 
often as possible, some friends or well in- 
formed neighbors, capable of rational con- 
versation, and he was always careful to 
introduce useful or ingenious topics of dis- 
course, which might tend to form the minds 
of his children. By this means he early at- 
tracted our attention to what was just, pru- 
dent, and beneficial in the conduct of life. 
He never talked of the meats which appeared 
upon the table, never discussed whether they 
were well or ill dressed, of a good or bad 
flavor, high seasoned or otherwise, preferable 
or inferior to this or that dish of a similar 
kind. Thus accustomed, from my infancy, 
to the utmost inattention as to these objects, 
I have been perfectly regardless of what 
kind of food was before me ; and I pay so 
little attention to it even now, that it would 
be a hard matter for me to recollect, a few 
hours after I had dined, of what my dinner 
had consisted. When traveling, I have par- 
ticularly experienced the advantage of this 
habit ; for it has often happened to me to be 



lilTE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 21 

in company with persons, who, having a more 
delicate, because a more exercised, taste, have 
Buffered in many cases considerable inconve- 
nience ; while, as to myself, I have had noth- 
ing to desire. 

My mother was likewise possessed of an 
excellent constitution. She suckled all her 
ten children, and I never heard either her or 
my father complain of any other disorder 
than that of which they died ; my father at 
the age of eighty-seven, and my mother at 
eighty-five. They are buried together at 
Boston, where, a few years ago, I placed a 
marble over their grave, with this inscrip- 
tion : 

" Here lies 
** JosiAS Franklin and Abiah his wife : They liyed to- 
gether with reciprocal affection for fifty -nine years ; and 
without private fortune, without lucrative employment, 
by assiduous labor and honest industry, decently sup- 
ported a numerous family, and educated with success, 
thirteen children, and seven grandchildren. Let this 
example, reader, encourage thee diligently to discharge 
the duties of thy calling, and to rely on the support of 
Divine Providence. 

** He was pious and prudent, 

** She discreet and virtuous. 
** Their youngest son, from a sentiment of filial dm j« 
"consecrates this stone to their memory." 



22 LIFE OF DR. FRANfcLLlN. 

I perceive, by my rambling digressions, 
that I am growing old. But we do not dress 
for a private company as for a formal ball. 
This deserves, perhaps, the name of negli- 
gence. 

To return. I thus continued employed in 
my father's trade for the space of two years ; 
that is to say, till I arrived at twelve years 
of age. About this time my brother John^ 
who had served his apprenticeship in London, 
having quitted my father, and being married 
and settled in business on his own account at 
Rhode Island, I was destined, to all appear- 
ance, to supply his place, and be a candle 
maker all my life : but my dislike of this oc* 
cupation continuing, my father was appre* 
hensive, that if a more agreeable one were 
not oJBfered me, I might play the truant and 
escape to sea ; as, to his extreme mortifica* 
tion, my brother Josias had done. He there* 
fore took me sometimes to see masons, coop* 
ers, braziers, joiners, and other mechanics^ 
employed at their work, in order to discover 
the bent of my inclination, and fix it if he 
could upon some occupation that might re- 
tain me on shore. I have since, in conse* 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 2ii 

quence of these visits, derived no small pleas- 
ure from seeing skilful workmen handle their 
tools ; and it has proved of considerable ben- 
efit, to have acquired thereby sufficient knowl- 
edge to be able to make little things for my- 
self, when I have had no mechanic at hand, 
and to construct small machines for my ex- 
periments, while the idea I have conceived 
has been fresh and strongly impressed on my 
imagination. 

My father at length decided that I should 
be a cutler, and I was placed for some days 
upon trial with my cousin Samuel, son of my 
uncle Benjamin, who had learned this trade 
in London, and had established himself at 
Boston. But the premium he required for 
my apprenticeship displeasing my father, I 
was recalled home. 

From my earliest years I had been pas- 
sionately fond of reading, and I laid out in 
books all the money I could procure. I was 
particularly pleased with accounts of voy- 
ages. My first acquisition was Bunyan's col- 
lection in small separate volumes. These I 
afterwards sold in order to buy an historical 
collection by R. Burton, which consisted of 



24 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

amall, cheap volumes, amounting in all to 
about forty or fifty. My father's little li- 
brary was principally made up of books of 
practical and polemical theology. I read the 
greatest part of them. I have since often re- 
gretted that at a time when I had so great a 
thirst for knowledge, more eligible books had 
not fallen into my hands, as it was then a 
point decided that I should not be educated 
for the church. There was also among my 
father's books Plutarch's Lives, in which I 
read continually, and I still regard as advan- 
tageously employed the time I devoted to 
them. I found besides a work of De Foe's, 
entitled an Essay on Projects, from which, 
perhaps, I derived impressions that have 
since influenced some of the principal events 
of my life. 

My inclination for books at last deter- 
mined my father to make me a printer, 
though he had already a son in that profes- 
sion. My brother had returned from Eng- 
land in 1717, with a press and types, in or- 
der to establish a printing-house at Boston. 
This business pleased me much better than 
that of my father, though I had still a predi- 



LIFE OP DR. FRANKLIN. 25 



lection for the sea. To prevent the effects 
which might result from this inclination, mj 
father was impatient to see me engaged with 
my brother. I held back for some time ; at 
length, however, I suffered myself to be per- 
suaded, and signed my indentures, being then 
only twelve years of age. It was agreed that 
[ should serve as an apprentice to the age of 
twenty-one, and should receive journeyman's 
wages only during the last year. 

In a very short time I made great profi- 
ciency in this business, and became very ser- 
viceable to my brother. I had now an op- 
portunity of procuring better books. The ac- 
tjuaintance I necessarily formed with book- 
sellers' apprentices, enabled me to borrow a 
volume now and then, which I never failed to 
return punctually and without injury. How 
often has it happened to me to pass the 
greater part of the night in reading by my 
bedside, when the book had been lent me in 
the evening and was to be returned the next 
morning, lest it might be missed or wanted. 

At length Mr. Mathew Adams, an ingeni- 
ous tradesman, who had a handsome collec- 
tion of books, and who frequented our print 



26 XAFE OP DR. FHANKLIN. 

ing-house, took notice of me. He invited me 
to see his library, and had the goodness to 
lend me any books I was desirous of reading. 
I then took a strange fancy for poetry, and 
composed several little pieces. My brother, 
thinking he might find his account in it, en- 
couraged me, and engaged me to write two 
ballads. One, called the Light-house Tra- 
gedy, contained an account of the shipwreck 
of Captain Worthilake and his two daughters ; 
the other was a sailor's song on the capture 
of the noted pirate called Teaeh, or Black- 
beard. They were wretched verses in point 
of style, mere blindmen's ditties. When 
printed, he despatched me about the town to 
sell them. The first had a prodigious run, 
because the event was recent, and had made 
a great noise. 

My vanity was flattered by this success ; 
but my father checked my exultation, by rid- 
iculing my productions, and telling me tbat 
versifiers were always poor. I thus escaped 
the misfortune of being a very wretched poet. 
But as the faculty of writing prose has been 
of great service to me in the course of my 
life, and principally contributed to my ad- 



LITE OF DR. rBANKLIN. 27 

vancement, I shall relate by what means, sit- 
uated as I was, I acquired the small skill I 
may possess in that way. 

There was in the town another young 
man, a great lover of books, of the name of 
John Collins, with whom I was intimately 
connected. We frequently engaged in dis- 
pute, and were indeed so fond of argumenta- 
tion, that nothing was so agreeable to us as 
a war of words. This contentious temper, I 
would observe by the by, is in danger of be- 
coming a very bad habit, and frequently ren- 
ders a man's company insupportable, as being 
no otherwise capable of indulgence than by 
an indiscriminate contradiction ; independ- 
ently of the acrimony and discord it intro- 
duces into conversation, and is often produc- 
tive of dislike, and even hatred, between 
persons to whom friendship is indispensably 
necessary. I acquired it by reading, while I 
lived with my father, books of religious con- 
troversy. I have since remarked, that men 
of sense seldom fall into this error ; lawyers, 
fellows of universities, and persons of every 
profession educated at Edinburgh, excepted. 
Collins and I fell one day into an argu- 



28 LIFE OP DR. FRANKLIN, 

ment relative to the education of women ; 
namely, whether it was proper to instruct 
them in the sciences, and whether they were 
competent to the study. Collins supported 
the negative, and affirmed that the task was 
beyond their capacity. I maintained the op- 
posite opinion, a little perhaps for the pleas- 
ure of disputing. He was naturally more 
eloquent than I ; words flowed copiously from 
his lips; and frequently I thought myself 
vanquished, more by his volubility than by 
the force of his arguments. We separated 
without coming to an agreement upon this 
point, and as we were not to see each other 
again for sometime, I committed my thoughts 
to paper, made a fair copy, and sent it to 
him. He answered, and I replied. Three 
or four letters had been written by each, 
when my father chanced to light upon my 
papers and read them. Without entering 
into the merits of the cause, he embraced the 
opportunity of speaking to me upon my man- 
ner of writing. He observed, that though I 
had the advantage of my adversary in correct 
spelling and pointing, which I owed to my 
occupation, I was greatly his inferior in ele- 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 29 

gance of expression, in arrangement, and per- 
spicuity. Of this he convinced me by several 
examples. I felt the justice of his remarks, 
became more attentive to language, and re- 
solved to make every eflfort to improve my 
style. 

Amidst these resolves an odd volume of 
the Spectator fell into my hands. This was 
a publication I had never seen. I bought 
the volume, and read it again and again. I 
was enchanted with it, thought the style ex- 
cellent, and wished it were in my power to 
imitate it. With this view I selected some 
of the papers, made short summaries of the 
sense of each period, and put them for a few 
days aside. I then, without looking at the 
book, endeavored to restore the essays to 
their due form, and to express each thought 
at length, as it was in the original, employ- 
ing the most appropriate words that occurred 
to my mind. I afterwards compared my 
Spectator with the original ; I perceived some 
faults, which I corrected ; but I found that I 
wanted a fund of words, if I may so express 
myself, and a facility of recollecting and em- 
ploying them, which I thought I should by 



80 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN, 

that time have acquired, had I continued to 
make verses. The continual need of words 
of the same meaning, but of different lengths 
for the measure, or of different sounds for the 
rhyme, would have obliged me to seek for a 
variety of synonymes, and have rendered me 
master of them. From this belief, I took 
some of the tales of the Spectator and turned 
them into verse : and, after a time, when I 
had suflSciently forgotten them, I again con- 
verted them into prose. 

Sometimes also I mingled all my summa- 
ries together; and, a few weeks after, en- 
deavored to arrange them in the best order, 
before I attempted to form the periods and 
complete the essays. This I did with a view 
of acquiring method in the arrangement of 
my thoughts. On comparing afterwards my 
performance with the original, many faults 
were apparent, which I corrected ; but I had 
sometimes the satisfaction to think, that, in 
certain particulars of little importance, I had 
been fortunate enough to improve the order 
of thought or the style ; and this encouraged 
me to hope that I should succeed, in time, in 
writing decently in the English language. 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 81 

which was one of the great objects of my am- 
bition, 

The time which I devoted to these exer- 
cises, and to reading, was the evening after 
my day's labor was finished, the morning be- 
fore it began, and Sundays when I could es- 
cape attending Divine service. While I lived 
with my father, he had insisted on my punc- 
tual attendance on public worship, and I still 
indeed considered it as a duty, but a duty 
which I thought I had no time to practice. 

When about sixteen years of age, a work 
of Tryon fell into my hands, in which he rec- 
ommends vegetable diet, I determined to 
observe it. My brother, being a bachelor, 
did not keep house, but boarded with his 
apprentices in a neighboring family. My 
refusing to eat animal food was found incon- 
venient, and I was often scolded for my sin- 
gularity, I attended to the mode in which 
Tryon prepared some of hfa dishes, particu- 
larly how to boil potatoes and rice, and make 
hasty puddings. I then said to my brother, 
that if he would allow me per week half what 
he paid for my board, I would undertake lo 
Dcaintain myself. The offer was instantly 



32 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

enrbraced, and I soon found that of what he 
gave me I was able to save half. This was 
a new fund for the purchase of books ; and 
other advantages resulted to me from the plan. 
When my brother and his workmen left the 
printing-house to go to dinner, I remained 
behind; and despatching my frugal meal, 
which frequently consisted of a biscuit only, 
or a slice of bread and a bunch of raisins, or 
a bun from the pastry cook's, with a glass of 
water, I had the rest of the time, till their 
return, for study ; and my progress therein 
was proportioned to that clearness of ideas, 
and quickness of conception, which are the 
fruit of temperance in eating and drinking. 

It was about this period that, having one 
day been put to blush for my ignorance in 
the art of calculation, which I had twice 
failed to learn while at school, I took Cock- 
er's Treatise of Arithmetic, and went through 
it myself with the utmost ease. I also read 
a book of Navigation by Seller and Sturmy, 
and made myself master of the little geome- 
try it contains, but I never proceeded far in 
this science. Nearly at the same time I 
read Locke on the Human Understanding, 



LlPE OF DK. FHANKLIN. 83 

and the Art of Ttiinking, by Messrs. du F^rt 
Royal. 

While laboring to form and improve my 
style, I met with an English Grammar, which 
I believe was Greenwood's, having at the 
end of it two little essays on rhetoric and 
logic. In the latter I found a model of 
disputation after the manner of Socrates. 
Shortly after I procured Xenophon's work^ 
entitled, Memorable Things of Socrates, in 
which are various examples of the same 
method. Charmed to a degree of enthu- 
siasm with this mode of disputing, I adopted 
it, and renouncing blunt contradiction, and 
direct and positive argument, I assumed the 
character of a humble questioner. The pe- 
rusal of Shaftsbury and Collins had made 
me a skeptic ; and, being previously so as to 
many doctrines of Christianity, I found Soc- 
rates' method to be both the safest for my- 
self, as well as the most embarrassing to 
those against whom I employed it. It soon 
afforded me singular pleasure ; I incessantly 
practiced it ; and became very adroit in ob- 
taining, even from persons of superior un- 
derstanding, concessions of which they did 

3 Franklin 



84 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

not foresee the consequence. Thus I in- 
volved them in difficulties from which they 
were unable to extricate themselves, and 
sometimes obtained victories, which neither 
my cause nor my arguments merited. 

This method I continued to employ for 
some years ; but I afterwards abandoned it 
by degrees, retaining only the habit of ex- 
pressing myself with modest diffidence, and 
never making use, when I advanced any 
proposition which might be controverted, of 
the words certainly^ undoubtedly^ or any 
others that might give the appearance of 
being obstinately attached to my opinion. I 
rather said, I imagine, I suppose, or it ap- 
pears to me, that such a thing is so or so, 
for such and such reasons ; or it is so, if 1 
am not mistaken. This habit has, I think, 
been of considerable advantage to me, when 
I have had occasion to impress my opinion 
on the minds of others, and persuade them 
to the adoption of the measures I have sug- 
gested. And since the chief ends of con- 
versation are, to inform or to be informed, to 
please or to persuade, I could wish that in- 
telligent and well meaning men would not 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 35 

themselves diminish the power they possess 
of being useful, by a positive and presump- 
tuous manner of expressing themselves, which 
scarcely ever fails to disgust the hearer, and 
is only calculated to excite opposition, and 
defeat every purpose for which the faculty 
of speech has been bestowed on man. In 
short, if you wish to inform, a positive and 
dogmatical manner of advancing your opinion 
may provoke contradiction, and prevent your 
being heard with attention. On the other 
hand, if, with a desire of being informed, and 
of benefiting by the knowledge of others, 
you express yourself as being strongly at- 
tached to your own opinions, modest and 
sensible men, who do not love disputation, 
will leave you in tranquil possession of your 
errors. By following such a method, you 
can rarely hope to please your auditors, con- 
ciliate their good will, or work conviction on 
those whom you may be desirous of gaining 
over to your views. Pope judiciously ob- 
serves, 

Men must be tan^t as if you taught them not, 
ijxd things unknown proposed as things forgot. 



36 LIEE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

And in the same poem he afterwards advises 
us, 

To speak, though sure, with seeming diffidence 

He might have added to these lines, one that 
he has coupled elsewhere, in my opinion, with 
less propriety. It is this : 

For want of modesty is want of sense. 

If you ask why I say with less propriety, I 
must give you the two lines together : 

Immodest words admit of no dtfense, 
For want of deoencj is want of sense. 

Now want of sense, when a man has the mis- 
fortune to be so circumstanced, is it not a 
kind of excuse for want of modesty ? And 
would not the verses have been more accu- 
rate, if they had been constructed thus : 

Immodest words admit but thia defense, 
The want of decency is want of sense. 

But I leave the decision of this to better 
judges than myself. 

In 1720, or 1721, my brother began to 
print a new public paper. It was the second 
that made its appearance in America, and 
was entitled the " New England Courant/' 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 87 

The only one that existed before was the 
" Boston News Letter. Some of his friends, 
I remember, would have dissuaded him from 
this undertaking, as a thing that was not 
likely to succeed ; a single newspaper being, 
in their opinion, sufficient for all America. 
At present, however, in 1771, there are no 
less than twenty-five. But he carried his 
project into execution, and I was employed 
in distributing the copies to his customers, 
after having assisted in composing and work- 
ing them off. 

Among his friends he had a number of lit- 
erary characters, who, as an amusement, 
wrote short essays for the paper, which gave 
it reputation and increased the sale. These 
gentlemen frequently came to our house. I 
heard the conversation that passed, and the 
accounts they gave of the favorable reception 
of their writings with the public. I was 
tempted to try my hand among them ; but, 
being still a child as it were, I was fearful 
that my brother might be unwilling to print 
in his paper any performance of which he 
should know me to be the author. I there- 
fore contrived to disguise my hand, and hay- 



88 LITE OP DR. FRANKLIN. 

ing written an anonymous piece, I placed it 
at night under the door of the printing-house, 
where it was found the next morning. My 
brother communicated it to his friends, when 
they came as usual to see him, who read it, 
commented upon it within my hearing, and I 
had the exquisite pleasure to find that it met 
with their approbation, and that in their va- 
rious conjectures they made respecting the 
author, no one was mentioned who did not 
enjoy a high reputation in the country for 
talents and genius. I now supposed myself 
fortunate in my judges, and began to suspect 
that they were not such excellent writers as 
I had hitherto supposed them. Be this as it 
may, encouraged by this little adventure, I 
wrote and sent to press, in the same way, 
many other pieces, which were equally ap- 
proved : keeping the secret till my slender 
stock of information and knowledge for such 
performances was pretty completely ex- 
hausted, when I made myself known. 

My brother upon this discovery, began to 
entertain a little more respect for me : but 
he still regarded himself as my master, and 
treated me as an apprentice. He thought 



LIFE 07 DR. FBANKLIN. 39 

himself entitled to the same services from me 
as from any other person. On the contrary, 
I conceived that, in many instances, he was 
too rigorous, and that, on the part of a 
brother, I had a right to expect greater in- 
dulgence. Our disputes were frequently 
brought before my father; and either my 
brother was generally in the wrong, or I was 
the better pleader of the two, for judgment 
was commonly given in my favor. But my 
brother was passionate, and often had re- 
course to blows ; a circumstance which I took 
in very ill part. This severe and tyrannical 
treatment contributed, I believe, to imprint 
on my mind that aversion to arbitrary power, 
which, during my whole life, I have ever pre- 
served. My apprenticeship became insup- 
portable to me, and I continually sighed for 
an opportunity of shortening it, which at 
length unexpectedly offered. 

An article inserted in our paper, upon some 
political subject which I have now forgotten, 
gave offence to the Assembly. My brother 
was taken into custody, censured, and or- 
dered into confinement for a month, because, 
as I presume, he would not discover the au- 



40 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN* 

tnor. I was also taken up, and examined 
before the council ; but, though I gave them 
no satisfaction, they contented themselves 
with reprimanding, and then dismissed me ; 
considering me probably as bound, in quality 
of apprentice, to keep my master's secrets. 

The imprisonment of my brother kindled 
my resentment, notwithstanding our private 
quarrels. During its continuance, the man- 
agement of the paper was entrusted to me, 
and I was bold enough to insert some pas- 
quinades against the governors ; which highly 
pleased my brother, while others began to 
look upon me in an unfavorable point of 
view, considering me as a young wit, inclined 
to satire and lampoon. 

My brother's enlargement was accompa- 
nied with an arbitrary order from the House 
of the Assembly, " That James Franklin 
should no longer print the newspaper enti- 
tled the 'New England Courant.* " In this 
conjuncture, we held a consultation of our 
friends at the printing-house, in order to de- 
termine what was to be done. Some pro- 
posed to evade the order, by changing the 
title of the paper : but my brother foreseeing 



LITE or DB. FBANKLIN. 41 

inconveniences that would result from this 
step, thought it better that it should in future 
be printed in the name of Benjamin Franklin ; 
and to avoid the censure of the Assembly, 
who might charge him with still printing the 
paper himself, under the name of his appren- 
tice, it was resolved that my old indentures 
should be given up to me, with a full and en- 
tire discharge written on the back, in order 
to be produced upon an emergency : but that, 
to secure to my brother the benefit of my 
service, I should sign a new contract, which 
should be kept secret during the remainder 
of the term. This was a very shallow ar- 
rangement. It was, however, carried into im- 
mediate execution, and the paper continued, 
in consequence, to make its appearance for 
some months in my name. At length a 
new difierence arising between my brother 
and me, I ventured to take advantage of my 
liberty, presuming that he would not dare to 
produce the new contract. It was undoubt- 
edly dishonorable to avail myself of this cir- 
cumstance, and I reckon this action as one 
of the first errors of my life ; but I was little 
capable of estimating it at its true value, em- 

4 Franklin 



42 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

bittered as my mind had been by the recoU 
lection of the blows I had received. Exclu- 
sively of his passionate treatment of me, my 
brother was by no means a man of an ill 
temper, and perhaps my manners had too 
much impertinence not to afford it a very 
natural pretext. 

When he knew that it was my determina- 
tion to quit him, he wished to prevent my 
finding employment elsewhere. He went to 
all the printing-houses in the town, and pre- 
judiced the masters against me ; who accord- 
ingly refused to employ me. The idea then 
suggested itself to me of going to New York, 
the nearest town in which there was a print- 
ing-office. Farther reflection confirmed me 
in the design of leaving Boston, where I had 
already rendered myself an object of suspi- 
cion to the governing party. It was proba- 
ble, from the arbitrary proceedings of the 
Assembly in the affair of my brother, that, 
by remaining, I should soon have been ex- 
posed to difficulties, which I had the greater 
reason to apprehend, as, from my indiscreet 
disputes upon the subject of religion, I began 
to be regarded by pious souls with horror. 



LIFE OF DE. FRANKLIN. 43 

either as an apostate or an atheist. I came 
therefore to a resolution : but my father, sid- 
ing with my brother, I presumed that if I 
attempted to depart openly, measures would 
be taken to prevent me. My friend Collins 
undertook to favor my flight. He agreed for 
my passage with the captain of a New York 
sloop, to whom he represented me as a young 
man of his acquaintance, who bad an affair 
with a girl of bad character, whose parents 
wished to compel me to marry her, and of 
consequence I could neither make my ap- 
pearance, nor go off publicly. I sold part of 
my books to procure a small sum of money, 
and went privately on board the sloop. By 
favor of a good wind, I found myself in three 
days at New York, nearly three hundred 
miles from my home, at the age only of sev- 
enteen years, without knowing an individual 
in the place, and with very little money in 
my pocket. 

The inclination I had felt for a sea-faring 
life was entirely subsided, or I should now 
have been able to gratify it ; but having an- 
other trade, and believing myself to be a tol- 
erable workman, I hesitated not to offer mj 



44 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

services to old Mr. William Bradford, who 
had been the first printer in Pennsylvania, 
but had quitted the province on account of a 
quarrel with George Keith, the governor. 
He could not give me employment himself, 
having little to do, and already as many per- 
sons as he wanted ; but he told me that his 
son, printer at Philadelphia, had lately lost 
his principal workman, Aquilla Rose, who 
was dead, and that if I would go thither, he 
believed that he would engage me. Phila- 
delphia was a hundred miles farther. I hesi- 
tated not to embark in a boat in order to 
repair, by the shortest cut of the sea, to Am- 
boy, leaving my trunk and efiects to come 
after me by the usual and more tedious con- 
veyance. In crossing the bay we met with 
a squall, which shattered to pieces our rotten 
sails, prevented us from entering the Kill, 
and threw us upon Long Island. 

During the squall, a drunken Dutchman, 
who, like myself, was a passenger in the boat, 
fell into the sea. At the moment that he 
was sinking, I siezed him by the foretop, 
saved him, and drew him on board. This 
immersion sobered him a little, so that he feU 



UrE OF DR FRANKLIN 45 

asleep, after having taken from his pocket a 
volume which he requested me to dry. This 
volume I found to be my old favorite work, 
Bunyan's Pilgrim, in Dutch, a beautiful im- 
pression on fine paper, with copper-plate en- 
gravings ; a dress in which I had never seen 
it in its original language. I have since 
learned that it has been translated into al- 
most all the languages of Europe, and next 
to the Bible, I am persuaded it is one of the 
books that has had the greatest spread. 
Honest John is the first, that I know of, who 
has mixed narrative and dialogue together ; 
a mode of writing very engaging to the 
reader, who in the most interesting passages, 
finds himself admitted as it were into the 
company, and present at the conversation. 
De Foe has imitated it with success in his 
Robinson Crusoe, his Moll Flanders, and 
other works ; as also Richardson in his Pa- 
mela, &c. 

In approaching the island, we found that 
we had made a part of the coast where it was 
not possible to land, on account of the strong 
breakers produced by the rocky shore. We 
cast anchor and veered the cable towards 



46 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

the shore. Some men, who stood upon the 
brink, halloed to us, while we did the same 
on our part ; but the wind was so high, and 
the waves so noisy, that we could neither of 
us hear each other. There were some canoes 
upon the bank, and we called out to them, 
and made signs to prevail on them to come 
and take us up ; but either they did not un- 
derstand us, or they deemed our request im- 
practicable, and withdrew. Night came on, 
and nothing remained for us but to wait qui- 
etly the subsiding of the wind ; till when, we 
determined, that is, the pilot and I, to sleep 
if possible. For that purpose we went below 
the hatches along with the Dutchman, who 
was drenched with water. The sea broke 
over the boat, and reached us in our retreat, 
so that we were presently as completely 
drenched as he. 

We had very little repose during the whole 
night ; but the wind abating the next day, 
we succeeded in reaching Amboy before it 
was dark, after having passed thirty hours 
without provisions, and with no other drink 
than a bottle of bad rum, the water upon 
which we rowed being salt. In the evening 



LIFE OF DR. FRANELLIN. 47 

I wont to bed with a very violent fever. I 
had somewhere read that cold water, drunk 
plentifully, was a remedy in such cases. I 
followed the prescription, was in a profuse 
sweat for the greater part of the night, and 
the fever left me. The next day I crossed 
the river in a ferry-boat, and continued my 
journey on foot. I had fifty miles to walk, 
in order to reach Burlington, where I was 
told I should find passage-boats that would 
convey me to Philadelphia. It rained hard 
the whole day, so that I was wet to the skin. 
Finding myself fatigued about noon, I stop- 
ped at a paltry inn, where I passed the rest 
of the day and the whole night, beginning to 
regret that I had quitted my home. I made 
besides so wretched a figure, that I was sus- 
pected to be some runaway servant, j-liis I 
discovered by the questions that were asked 
me ; and I felt that I was every moment in 
danger of being taken up as such. The next 
clay, however, I continued my journey, and 
arrived in the evening at an inn, eight or ten 
miles from Burlington, that was kept by one 
Dr. Brown. 

This man entered into conversation with 



48 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

me while I took some refreshment, and per- 
ceiving that I had read a little, he expressed 
towards me considerable interest and friend- 
ship. Our acquaintance continued during 
the remainder of his life. I believe him to 
have been what is called an itinerant doctor ; 
for there was no town in England, or indeed 
in Europe, of which he could not give a par- 
ticular account. He was neither deficient in 
understanding or literature, but he was a sad 
infidel ; and, some years after, wickedly un- 
dertook to travesty the ^Bible, in burlesque 
verse, as Cotton has travestied Virgil. He 
exhibited, by this means, many facts in a 
very ludicrous point of view, which would 
have given umbrage to weak minds, had his 
work been published, which it never was. 

I spent the night at his house, and reached 
Burlington the next morning. On my ar- 
rival, I had the mortification to learn that 
the ordinary passage-boats had sailed a little 
before. This was on a Saturday, and there 
would be no other boat till the Tuesday fol- 
lowing. I returned to the house of an old 
woman in the town who had sold me somo 
gingerbread to eat on my passage, and I 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 49 

asked her advice. She invited me to take 
up my abode with her till an opportunity 
oflfered for me to embark. Fatigued with 
having traveled so far on foot, I accepted 
her invitation. When she understood that I 
was a printer, she would have persuaded me 
to stay at Burlington, and set up my trade ; 
but she was little aware of the capital that 
would be necessary for such a purpose ! I 
was treated while at her house with true 
hospitality. She gave me, with the utmost 
good will, a dinner of beefsteaks, and would 
accept of nothing in return but a pint of ale. 
Here I imagined myself to be fixed till the 
Tuesday in the ensuing week ; but, walking 
out in the evening by the river side, 1 saw a 
boat with a number of persons in it approach. 
It was going to Philadelphia, and the cooa- 
pany took me in. As there was no wind, we 
could only make way with our oars. About 
midnight, not perceiving the town, some of 
the company were of opinion that we must 
have passed it, and were unwilling to row 
any farther ; the rest not knowing where we 
were, it was resolved that we should stop. 
We drew towards the shore, entered a creek. 



OO LITE OP DR. FRANKLIN. 

and landed near some old palisades, which 
served us for firewood, it being a cold night 
in October. Here we staid till day, when 
one of the company found the place in which 
we were to be Cooper's Creek, a little above 
Philadelphia ; which, in reality, we perceived 
the moment we were out of the creek. We 
arrived on Sunday about eight or nine o'clock 
in the morning, and landed on Market Street 
wharf. 

I have entered into the particulars of my 
voyage, and shall, in like manner, describe 
ray first entrance into this city, that you may 
be able to compare beginnings so little aus- 
picious, with the figure I have since made. 

On my arrival at Philadelphia I was in my 
working dress, my best clothes being to come 
by sea. I was covered with dirt ; my pock- 
ets were filled with shirts and stockings ; I 
was unacquainted with a single soul in the 
place, and knew not where to seek for a 
lodging. Fatigued with walking, rowing, 
and having passed the night without sleep, I 
was extremely hungry, and all my money 
consisted of a Dutch dollar, and about a 
shilling's worth of coppci's, which I gave to 



LIFE or DR. FRANKLIN. 51 

the boatmen for my passage. As I liad as- 
sisted them in rowing, they refused it at 
first; but I insisted on their taking it. A 
man is sometimes more generous when he 
has little than when he has much money; 
probably because, in the first case, he is de- 
sirous of concealing his poverty. 

I walked towards the top of the street, 
looking eagerly on both sides, till I came to 
Market Street, where I met with a child with 
a loaf of bread. Often had I made my din- 
ner on dry bread. I inquired where he had 
bought it, and went straight to the baker's 
shop which he pointed out to me. I asked 
for some biscuits, expecting to find such as 
we had at Boston ; but they made, it seems, 
none of that sort at Philadelphia. I then 
asked for a threepenny loaf. They made no 
loaves of that price. Finding myself ignor- 
ant of the prices, as well as of the diflferent 
kinds of bread, I desired him to let me have 
threepenny- worth of bread of some kind or 
other. He gave me three large rolls. I was 
surprised at receiving so much: I took them, 
however, and having no room in my pockets, 
I walked on with a roll uiulcv each arm, eat- 



52 LIFE OP DR. FRANKLIN. 

ing the third. In this manner I went through 
Market Street to Fourth Street, and passed 
the house of Mr. Read, the father of my fu- 
ture wife. She was standing at the door^ 
observed me, and thought with reason, that 
I made a very singular and grotesque ap- 
pearance. 

I then turned the corner, and went through 
Chestnut Street, eating my roll all the way i 
and having made this round, I found myself 
again on Market Street wharf, near the boat 
in which I arrived. I stepped into it to take 
a draught of the river water; and finding 
myself satisfied with my first roll, I gave the 
other two to a woman and her child, who had 
come down the river with us in the boat, and 
was waiting to continue her journey. Thus 
refreshed, I regained the street, which was 
now full of well dressed people, all going the 
same way. I joined them, and was thus led 
to a large Quaker's meeting-house near the 
market-place. I sat down with the rest, and, 
after looking round me for some time, hear- 
ing nothing said, and being drowsy from my 
last night's labor and want of rest, I fell into^ 
a sound sleep. In this state I continued till 



LIFE or DR. FRANKLIN. 53 

the assembly dispersed, when one of the 
congregation had the goodness to wake 
me. This was consequently the first house 
I entered, or in which I slept, at Phila- 
delphia. </ 

I began again to walk along the street, by 
the river side ; and, looking attentively in the 
face of every one I met with, I at length 
perceived a young Quaker whose countenance 
pleased me. I accosted him, and begged 
him to inform me where a stranger might 
find a lodging. We were then near the sign 
of the Three Mariners. They receive trav- 
elers here, said he, but it is not a house that 
bears a good character ; if you will go with 
me, I will show you a better one. He con- 
ducted me to the Crooked Billet, in Water 
Street. There I ordered something for din- 
ner, and, during my meal, a number of curi- 
ous questions were put to me, my youth and 
appearance exciting the suspicion of my be- 
ing a runaway. After dinner my drowsiness 
returned, and I threw myself upon a bed 
without taking oflF my clothes, and slept till 
six o'clock in the evening, when I was called 
io supper. I afterwards went to bed at a 



64 LliE OF DR. fRA.NKLlN. 

very early hour, and did not awake till the 
next morning. 

As soon as I got up I put myself in as de- 
cent a trim as I could, and went to the house 
of Andrew Bradford, the printer. I found 
his father in the shop, whom I had seen at 
New York. Having traveled on horseback, 
he had arrived at Philadelphia before me. 
He introduced me to his son, who received 
me with civility, and gave me some break- 
fast; but told me he had no occasion at 
present for a journeyman, having lately pro- 
cured one. He added, that there was an- 
other printer newly settled in the town, of 
the name of Keimer, who might perhaps em- 
ploy me; and that in case of refusal, I 
should be welcome to lodge at his house, and 
he would give me a little work now and then^ 
till something better should offer. 

The old man offered to introduce me to the 
new printer. When we were at his house^ 
" Neighbor,*' said he, " I bring you a young 
man in the printing business; perhaps you 
may have need of his services.'' 

Keimer asked me some questions, put a 
composing-stick in my hand to see how 1 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 55 

could work, and then said, that at present 
he had nothing for me to do, but that he 
should soon be able to employ me. At the 
same time, taking old Bradford for an inhab- 
itant of the town well disposed towards him, 
he communicated his project to him, and the 
prospect he had of success. Bradford was 
careful not to discover that he was the father 
of the other printer ; and from what Keimer 
had said, that he hoped shortly to be in pos- 
session of the greater part of the business 
of the town, led him, by artful questions, 
and by starting some difficulties, to disclose 
all his views, what his hopes were founded 
upon, and how he intended to proceed. I 
was present, and heard it all. I instantly 
saw that one of the two was a cunning old 
fox, and the other a perfect novice. Brad- 
ford left me with Keimer, who was strangely 
surprised when I informed him who the old 
man was, 

I found Keimer's printing materials to 
consist of an old damaged press, and a small 
font of worn out English letters, with which 
he himself was at work upon an elegy on 
Aquila Rose, whom I have mentioned above. 



66 LIFE OP DR. FRANKLIN. 

an ingenious young man, and of an excellent 
character, highly esteemed in the town, sec- 
retary to the Assembly, and a very tolerable 
poet. Keimer also made verses, but they 
were indiflferent ones. He could not be said 
to write in verse, for his method was to set 
the lines as they flowed from his muse ; and 
as he worked without copy, had but one set 
of letter-cases, and the elegy would probably 
occupy all his types, it was impossible for 
any one to assist him. I endeavored to put 
his press in order, which he had not yet used, 
and of which indeed he understood nothing : 
and, having promised to come and work off 
his elegy as soon as it should be ready, I re- 
turned to the house of Bradford, who gave 
me some trifle to do for the present, for 
which I had my board and lodging. 

In a few days Keimer sent for me to print 
off his elegy. He had now procured another 
set of letter-cases, and had a pamphlet to 
reprint, upon which he set me to work. 

The two Philadelphia printers appeared 
destitute of every qualification necessary in 
their profession. Bradford had not been 
brought up to it, and was very illiterate. 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. Oi 

Keimerj though he understood a little of the 
businessy was merely a compositor, and wholly 
incapable of working at press. He had been 
one of the French prophets, and knew how 
to imitate their supernatural agitations. At 
the time of our first acquaintance he pro- 
fessed no particular religion, but a little of all 
upon occasion. He was totally ignorant of 
the world, and a great knave at heart, as I 
had afterwards an opportunity of experienc- 
ing. 

Keimer could not endure that, working 
with him, I should lodge at Bradford's. He 
had indeed a house, but it was unfurnished ; 
so that he could not take me in. He pro- 
cured me a lodging at Mr. Read's, his land- 
lord, whom I have already mentioned. My 
trunk and effects being now arrived, I thought 
of making, in the eyes of Miss Read, a more 
respectable appearance than when chance ex- 
hibited me to her view, eating my roll, and 
wandering in the streets. 

From this period I began to contract ac- 
quaintance with such young people as were 
fond of reading, and spent my evenings with 
them agreeably, while at the same tif'« I 



58 lAFE OF DR. FRANKLiy. 

gained money bj my industry, and, thanks 
to my frugality, lived contented. I thus for- 
got Boston as much as possible, and wished 
every one to be ignorant of the place of my 
residence, except my friend Collins, to whom 
I wi-ote, and who kept my secret. 

An incident however arrived, which sent 
me home much sooner than I had proposed. 
I had a brother-in-law, of the name of Rob- 
ert Holmes, master of a trading aloop from 
Boston to Delaware. Being at Newcastle, 
forty miles below Philadelphia, he heard of 
me, and wrote to inform me of the chagrin 
which my sudden departure from Boston had 
occasioned my parents, and of the affection 
which they still entertained for me, assuring 
me that, if I would return, everything should 
be adjusted to my satisfaction ; and he was 
very pressing in his entreaties. I answered 
his letter, thanked him for his advice, and 
explained the reasons which had induced me 
to quit Boston, with such force and clearness, 
that he was convinced I had been less to 
blame than he had imagined. 

Sir William Keith, governor of the prov- 
Jice, was at Newcastle at the time. Captaua 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 59 

Holmes, being by chance in his company 
when he received my letter, took occasion to 
speak of me, and showed it him. The gov- 
ernor read it, and appeared surprised when 
he learned my age. He thought me, he said, 
a young man of very promising talents, and 
that, of consequence, I ought to be encour- 
aged ; that there were at Philadelphia none 
but very ignorant printers, and that if I were 
to set up for myself, he had no doubt of my 
success; that, for his own part, he would 
procure me all the public business, and would 
render me every other service in his power. 
My brother-in-law related all this to me af- 
terwards at Boston ; but I knew nothing of it 
at the time; when one day Keimer and I, 
being at work together near the window, we 
saw the governor and another gentleman. 
Colonel French, of Newcastle, handsomely 
dressed, cross the street, and make directly 
for our house. We neard them at the door, 
and Keimer, believing it to be a visit to him- 
self, went immediately down : but the gov- 
ernor inquired for me, came up stairs, and, 
with a condescension and politeness to which 
I had not at all been accustomed, paid me 



60 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

many compliments, desired to be acquainced 
with me, obligingly reproached me for not 
having made myself known to him on my ar- 
rival in the town, and wished me to accom- 
pany him to a tavern, where he and Colonel 
French were going to taste some excellent 
Madeira wine. 

I was, I confess, somewhat surprised, and 
Keimer appeared thunderstruck. I went, 
however, with the governor and the colonel 
to a tavern, at the corner of Third Street, 
where, while we were drinking the Madeira, 
he proposed to me to establish a printing- 
house. He set forth the probabilities of suc- 
cess, and himself and Colonel French assured 
me that I should have their protection and 
influence in obtaining the printing of the 
public papers of both governments ; and as I 
appeared to doubt whether my father would 
assist me in this enterprise, Sir William said 
that he would give me a letter to him, in 
which he would represent the advantages of 
the scheme, in a light which he had no doubt 
would determine him. It was thus concluded 
that I should return to Boston by the first 
Tessel with the letter of recommendation, 



LIFE OE DR. FRANKLIN. 61 

from the governor to my father. Meanwhile 
the project was to be kept secret, and I con- 
tinued to work for Keimer as before. 

The governor sent every now and then to 
invite me to dine with him. I considered 
this as a very great honor ; and I was the 
more sensible of it, as he conversed with me 
in the most affable, familiar, and friendly 
manner imaginable. 

Towards the end of April, 1724, a small 
vessel was ready to sail for Boston. I took 
leave of Keimer, upon the pretext of going 
to see my parents. The governor gave me a 
long letter, in which he said many flattering 
things of me to my father ; and strongly rec- 
ommended the project of my settling at Phil- 
adelphia, as a thing which could not fail to 
make my fortune* 

Going down th-e bay we struck on a flat, 
and sprung a leak. The weather was very 
tempestuous, and we were obliged to pump 
without intermission ; I took my turn. We 
arrived, however, safe and sound, at Boston, 
after about a fortnight's passage. 

I had been absent seven complete months, 
and mv relations, during that interval, had 



32 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

received no intelligence of me ; for my broth- 
er-in-law, Holmes, was not yet returned, and 
had not written about me. My unexpected 
appearance surprised the family; but they 
were all delighted at seeing me again, and, 
except my brother, welcomed me home. I 
went to him at the printing-house. I was 
better dressed than I had ever been while in 
his service : I had a complete suit of clothes, 
new and neat, a watch in my pocket, and my 
purse was furnished with nearly five pounds 
sterling in money. He gave me no very civil 
reception ; and having eyed me from head to 
foot, resumed his work. 

The workmen asked me with eagerness 
where I had been, what sort of a country it 
was, and how I liked it. I spoke in the high- 
est terms of Philadelphia, the happy life we 
led there, and expressed my intention of go- 
ing back again. One of them asking what 
sort of money we had, I displayed before 
them a handful of silver, which I drew from 
my pocket. This was a curiosity to which 
they were not accustomed, paper being the 
current money at Boston. I failed not after 
this to let them see my watch ; and, at last, 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 63 

my brother continuing sullen and out of hu- 
mor, I gave them a shilling to drink, and 
took my leave. This visit stung my brother 
to the soul; for when, shortly after, jij 
mother spoke to him of a reconciliation, and 
a desire to see us upon good terms, he told 
her that I had so insulted him before his 
men, that he would never forget or forgive 
it ; in this, however, he was mistaken. 

The governor's letter appeared to excite in 
my father some surprise ; but he said little. 
After some days. Captain Holmes being re- 
turned, he showed it him, asking him if he 
knew Keith, and what sort of a man he was : 
adding that, in his opinion, it proved very 
little discernment to think of setting up a 
boy in business, who, for three years to come, 
would not be of an age to be ranked in the 
class of men. Holmes said everything he 
could in favor of the scheme ; but my father 
firmly maintained its absurdity, and at last 
gave a positive refusal. He wrote, however, 
a civil letter to Sir William, thanking him 
for the protection he had so obligingly oflFered 
me, but refusing to assist me for the present, 
because he thought me too young to be in- 



04 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

trusted with the conduct of so important an 
enterprise, and which would require so con- 
siderable a sum of money. 

My old comrade, Collins, who was a clerk 
in the post-office, charmed with the account I 
gave of my new residence, expressed a desire 
of going thither ; and, while I waited my 
father's determination, he set off before me 
by land for Rhode Island, leaving his books, 
which formed a handsome collection in math- 
ematics and natural philosophy, to be con- 
veyed with mine to New York, where he pro- 
posed to wait for me. 

My father, though he could not approve 
Sir William's proposal, was yet pleased that 
I had obtained so advantageous a recommen- 
dation as that of a person of his rank, and 
that my industry and economy had enabled 
me to equip myself so handsomely in so short 
a period. Seeing no appearance of accommo- 
dating matters between my brother and me, 
he consented to my return to Philadelphia, ad- 
vised me to be civil to every body, to endeavor 
to obtain general esteem, and avoid satire 
and sarcasm, to which he thought I was too 
much inclined ; adding, that with persever- 




"The captain allowed me to search the ba^^. 



Page L6. 



Autobiug-iaphy of i-ci;jaiiiiii Franklin. 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 65 

ance and prudent economy, I might, by the 
time I became of age, save enough to estab- 
lish myself in business ; and that if a small 
sum should then be wanting, he would under- 
take to supply it. 

This was all I could obtain from him, ex- 
cept some trifling presents, in token of 
friendship from him and my mother. I em- 
barked once more for New York, furnished at 
this time with their approbation and blessing. 
The sloop having touched at Newport, in 
Rhode Island, I paid a visit to my brother 
John, who had for some years been settled 
there, and was married. He had always 
been attached to me, and he received me with 
with great affection. One of his friends, 
whose name was Vernon, having a debt of 
about thirty-six pounds due to him in Penn- 
sylvania, begged me to receive it from him, 
and to keep the money till I should hear from 
him : accordingly he gave me an order for 
that purpose. This affair occasioned me, in 
the sequil, much uneasiness. 

At Newport we took on board a number 
of passengers ; among whom were two young 
women, and a grave and sensible Quaker lady 

5 Franklin 



66 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

T^ith her servants. I had shown an obliging 
forwardness in rendering the Quaker some 
trifling services, which led her, probably, to 
feel an interest in my welfare ; for when she 
saw a familiarity take place, and every day 
increase, between the two young women and 
me, she took me aside, and said, "Young 
man, I am in pain for thee. Thou hast no 
parent to watch over thy conduct, and thou 
seemest to be ignorant of the world, and the 
snares to which youth is exposed. Rely 
upon what I tell thee : those are women of 
bad characters ; I perceive it in all their ac- 
tions. If thou dost not take care, they will 
lead thee into danger. They are strangers 
to thee, and I advise thee, by the friendly 
interest I take in thy preservation, to form 
no connection with them.** As I appeared at 
first not to think quite so ill of them as she 
did, she related many things she had seen 
and heard, which had escaped my attention, 
but which convinced me that she was in the 
right. I thanked her for her obliging ad- 
vice, and promised to follow it. 

When we arrived at New York, they in- 
formed me where they lodged, and invited 



LIFE OF DR. FR.4J^KLIN. 67 

ine to come and see them. I did not how- 
ever go, and it was well I did not ; for the 
next day, the captain missing a silver spoon 
and some other things which had been taken 
from the cabin, and knowing these women to 
be prostitutes, procured a search-warrant, 
found the stolen goods upon them, and had 
them punished. And thus, after having been 
saved from one rock concealed under water, 
upon which the vessel struck during our pas- 
sage, I escaped another of a still more dan- 
gerous nature. 

At New York I found my friend Collins, 
who had arrived some time before. We had 
been intimate from our infancy, and had read 
the same books together ; but he had the ad- 
vantage of being able to devote more time to 
reading and study, and an astonishing dispo- 
sition for mathematics, in which he left me 
far behind him. When at Boston, I had been 
accustomed to pass with him almost all my 
leisure hours. He was then a sober and in- 
dustrious lad ; his knowledge had gained him 
a very general esteem, and he seemed to 
promise to make an advantageous figure in 
society. But, during my absence, he had 



68 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

unfortunately addicted himself to brandy, 
and I learned, as well from himself as from 
the report of others, that every day since his 
arrival at New York he had been intoxicated, 
and had acted in a very extravagant manner. 
He had also played and lost all his money ; 
80 that I was obliged to pay his expenses at 
the inn, and to maintain him during the rest 
of his journey ; a burthen that was very in- 
convenient to me. 

The Governor of New York, whose name 
was Bemet, hearing the captain say, that a 
young man who was a passenger in his ship 
had a great number of books, begged him to 
bring me to his house. I accordingly went, 
and should have taken Collins with me, had 
he been sober. The governor treated me 
with great civility, showed me his library, 
which was a very considerable one, and we 
talked for some time upon books and au- 
thors. This was the second governor vrho 
had honored me with his attention ; and, to a 
poor boy, as I was then, these little adven- 
tures did not fail to be pleasing. 

We arrived at Philadelphia. On the way 
I received Vernon's money, without which 



UrE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 69 

we should have been unable to have finished 
our journey. 

Collins wished to get employment as a 
merchant's clerk; but either his breath or 
his countenance betrayed his bad habit ; for, 
though he had recommendations, he met with 
no success, and continued to lodge and eat 
with me, and at my expense. Knowing that 
I had Vernon's money, he was continually 
asking me to lend him some of it ; promising 
to repay me as soon as he should get em- 
ployment. At last he had drawn so much 
of this money, that I was extremely alarmed 
at what might become of me, should he fail 
to make good the deficiency. His habit of 
drinking jdid not at all diminish, and was a 
frequent source of discord between us; for 
when he had drunk a little too much, he was 
very headstrong. 

Being one day in a boat together, on the 
Delaware, with some other young persons, he 
refused to take his turn in rowing. "You 
shall row for me," said he, "till we get 
home." — "No," I replied, "we will not row 
for you." "You shall," said he, "or re- 
main upon the water all night." — "As you 



70 LIPE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

please." Let us row, said the rest of the 
company: what signifies whether he assists 
or not. But, already angry with him for his 
conduct in other respects, I persisted in my 
refusal. He then swore that he would make 
me row, or would throw me out of the boat ; 
and he made up to me. As soon as he was 
within my reach, I took him by the collar, 
gave him a violent thrust, and threw him 
head foremost into the river. I knew that 
he was a good swimmer, and was therefore 
under no apprehensions for his life. Before 
he could turn himself, we were able, by a 
few strokes of our oars, to place ourselves 
out of his reach ; and, whenever he touched 
the boat, we asked him if he would row, 
striking his hands at the same time with the 
oars to make him let go his hold. He was 
nearly suffocated with rage, but obstinately 
refused making any promise to row. Per- 
ceiving, at length, that his strength began to 
be exhausted, we took him into the boat, and 
conveyed him home in the evening com- 
pletely drenched. The utmost coldness sub- 
sisted between us after this adventure. At 
last the captain of a West India ship, who 



UPE OF DR. FBANKLIN. 71 

was commissioued to procure a tutor for the 
children of a gentleman at Barbadoes, meet- 
ing with Collins, offered him the place. He 
accepted it, and took his leave of me, prom- 
ising to discharge the debt he owed me with 
the first money he should receive ; but I have 
heard nothing of him since. 

The violation of the trust reposed in me 
by Vernon was one of the first great errors 
of my life ; and it proves that my father was 
not mistaken when he supposed me too young 
to be intrusted with the management of 
important affairs. But Sir William, upon 
reading his letter, thought him too prudent. 
There was a difference, he said, between in- 
dividuals: years of maturity were not al- 
ways accompanied with discretion, neither 
was youth in every instance devoid of it. 
" Since your father,'* added he, " will not 
set you up in business, I will do it myself. 
Make out a list of what will be wanted from 
England, and I will send for the articles. 
You shall repay me when you can. I am 
determined to have a good printer here, and 
I am sure you will succeed." This was sai^l 
with so much seeming cordiality, that I sus^ 



72 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

pected not for an instant the sincerity of the 
offer. I had hitherto kept the project, with 
which Sir Vfilliam had inspired me, of set- 
tling in business, a secret at Philadelphia, 
and I still continued to do so. Had my reli- 
ance on the governor been known, some 
friend, better acquainted with his character 
than myself, would doubtless have advised 
me not to trust him ; for I afterwards learned 
that he was universally known to be liberal 
of promises, when he had no intention to 
perform. But having never solicited him, 
how could I suppose his offers to be deceit- 
ful ? On the contrary, I believed him to be 
the best man in the world. 

I gave him an Inventory of a small print- 
ing-office, the expense of which I had calcu- 
lated at about a hundred pounds sterling. 
He expressed his approbation ; but asked, if 
my presence In England, that I might choose 
the characters myself, and see that every ar- 
ticle was good in its kind, would not be an 
advantage? "You will also be able,'* said 
he, " to form some acquaintance there, and 
establish a correspondence with stationers 
and booksellers.'* This I acknowledged was 



LIf£ or 1>R. FK AN KLIN. 73 

desirable. "That being the case,' added 
he, " hold yourself in readiness to go with 
the Annis." This was the annual vessel, 
and the only one, at that time, which made 
regular voyages between the ports of Lon- 
don and Philadelphia. But the Annis was 
not to sail for some months. I therefore 
continued to work with Keimer, unhappy re- 
specting the sum which Collins had drawn 
from me, and almost in continual agony at 
the thoughts of Vernon, who fortunately 
made no demand of his money till several 
years after. 

In the account of my first voyage from 
Boston to Philadelphia, I omitted, I believe, 
a trifling circumstance, which will not, per- 
haps, be out of place here. During a calm, 
which stopped us above Block Island, the 
crew employed themselves in fishing for cod, 
of which they caught a great number. 1 
had hitherto adhered to my resolution of not 
eating any thing that had possessed life; 
and I considered, on this occasion, agreeably 
to the maxims of my master Tyron, the cap- 
ture of every fish as a sort of murder, com- 
mitted without provocation, since these ani- 

6 Franklin 



74 LIFE OF DR. FRANKJJN. 

mals had neither done, nor were capable of do- 
ing, the smallest injury to any one that should 
justify the measure. This mode of reason- 
ing I conceived to be unanswerable. Mean- 
while, I had formerly been extremely fond 
of fish; and, when one of these cod was 
taken out of the fryingpan, I thought its 
flavor delicious. I hesitated some time be- 
tween principle and inclination, till at last 
recollecting, that when the cod had been 
opened some small fish were found in its 
belly, I said to myself, if you eat one ano- 
ther, I see no reason why we may not eat 
you. I accordingly dined on the cod with 
no small degree of pleasure, and have since 
continued to eat like the rest of mankind, 
returning only occasionally to my vegetable 
plan. How convenient does it prove to be a 
rational animal^ that knows how to find or 
invent a plausible pretext for whatever it hag 
an inclination to do. 

I continued to live upon good terms with 
Keimer, who had not the smallest suspicion 
of my projected establishment. He still re- 
tained a portion of his former enthusiasm ; 
and, being fond of argument, we frequently 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 75 

disputed together. 1 was so much in the 
habit of using my Socratic method, and had 
so frequently puzzled him by my questions, 
which appeared at first very distant from the 
point in debate, yet, nevertheless, led to it 
by degrees, involving him in difficulties and 
contradictions from which he was unable to 
extricate himself, that he became at last ri- 
diculously cautious, and would scarcely an- 
swer the most plain and familiar question 
without previously asking me — What would 
you infer from that ? Hence he formed so 
high an opinion of my talents for refutation, 
that he seriously proposed to me to become 
his colleague in the establishment of a new 
religious sect. He was to propagate the doc- 
trine by preaching, and I to refute every op- 
ponent. 

When he explained to me his tenets, I 
found many absurdities which I refused to 
admit, unless he would agree in turn to adopt 
some of my opinions. Keimer wore his beard 
long, because Moses had somewhere said, 
"Thou shalt not mar the corners of thy 
beard." He likewise observed the Sabbath ; 
and these were with him two very essential 



76 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

points. I disliked them both; but I con- 
sented to adopt them, provided he would 
agree to abstain from animal food. " I 
doubt/* said he, "whether my constitution 
will be able to support it." I assured him on 
the contrary, that he would find himself the 
better for it. He was naturally a glutton, 
and I wished to amuse myself by starving 
him. He consented to make trial of this re- 
gimen, if I would bear him company ; and, 
in reality, we continued it for three months. 
A woman in the neighborhood prepared and 
brought us our victuals, to whom I gave a list 
of forty dishes, in the composition of which 
there entered neither flesh nor fish. This 
fancy was the more agreeable to me, as it 
turned to good account; for the whole ex- 
pense of our living did not exceed for each 
eighteen-pence a week. 

I have since that period observed several 
Lents with the greatest strictness, and have 
suddenly returned again to my ordinary diet, 
without experiencing the smallest inconveni- 
ence ; which has led me to regard as of no im- 
portance the advice commonly given, of intro- 
ducing gradually such alterations of regimen. 



LITE OF DB. PRANKLIN. 77 

I continued it cheerfully ; but poor Keimer 
Buffered terribly. Tired of the project, he 
sighed for the flesh pots of Egypt. At length 
he ordered a roast pig, and invited me and 
two of our female acquaintance to dine with 
him; but the pig being ready a little too 
soon, he could not resist the temptation, and 
eat it all up before we arrived. 

During the circumstances I have related, I 
had paid some attentions to Miss Read. I 
entertained for her the utmost esteem and af- 
fection ; and I had reason to believe that 
these sentiments were mutual. But we were 
both young, scarcely more than eighteen 
years of age; and, as I was on the point 
of undertaking a long voyage, her mother 
thought it prudent to prevent matters being 
carried too far for the present, judging that, 
if marriage was our object, there would be 
more propriety in it after my return, when, 
as at least I expected, I should be established 
in my business. Perhaps also she thought 
that my expectations were not so well founded 
as I imagined. 

My most intimate acquaintance at this 
time were Charles Osborne, Joseph Watson, 



78 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

and James Ralph ; young men who were all 
fond of reading. The two first were clerks 
to Mr. Charles Brockdon, one of the princi- 
pal attorneys in the town, and the other clerk 
to a merchant. Watson T^as an upright, pi- 
ous, and sensible young man: the others 
were somewhat more loose in their principles 
of religion, particularly Ralph, whose faith, 
as well as that of Collins, I had contributed to 
shake ; each of whom made me sufier a very 
adequate punishment. Osborne was sensible, 
and sincere, and affectionate in his friend- 
ships, but too much inclined to the critic in 
matters of literature. R^.lph was ingenuous 
and shrewd, genteel in his r.rldress, and ex- 
tremely eloquent. I do not remember to 
have met with a more agreeable speaker. 
They were both enamored of t]^e muses, and 
had already evinced their passion by some 
small poe-ical productions. 

It was a custom with us to take a charm- 
ing walk on Sundays, in the woods that 
border the Skuylkill. Here we read to- 
gether, and afterwards conversed on what we 
read. Ralph was disposed to give himself 
up entirely to poetry. He flattered himself 



J.IFE OE DR. FRANKLIN. 79 

that he should arrive at great eminence in 
the art, . and even acquire a fortune. The 
sublimest poets, he pretended, when they 
first began to write, committed as many 
faults as himself. Osborne endeavored to 
dissuade him, by assuring him that he had 
no genius for poetry, and advised him to 
stick to the trade in which he had been 
brought up. "In the road of commerce," 
said he, "you will be sure, by diligence and 
assiduity, though you have no capital, of so 
far succeeding as to be employed as a factor ; 
and may thus, in time, acquire the means of 
setting up for yourself.'* I concurred in 
these sentiments, but at the same time ex- 
pressed my approbation of amusing ourselves 
sometimes with poetry, with a view to im- 
prove our style. In consequence of this it 
was proposed, that, at our next meeting, each 
of us should bring a copy of verses of his own 
composition. Our object in this competition 
was to benefit each other by our mutual re- 
marks, criticisms, and corrections; and as 
style and expression were all we had in view, 
we excluded every idea of invention, by 
agreeing that our task should be a version of 



80 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

the eighteenth Psalm, in which is described 
the descent of the Deity. 

The time of our meeting drew near, when 
Ralph called upon me, and told me that hia 
performance was ready. I informed him that 
I had been idle, and, not much liking the 
task, had done nothing. He showed me 
his piece, and asked me what I thought of it, 
I expressed myself in terms of warm appro- 
bation ; because it really appeared to have 
considerable merit. He then said, " Osborne 
will never acknowledge the smallest degree 
of excellence in any production of mine. 
Envy alone dictates to him a thousand ani- 
madversions. Of you he is not so jealous : I 
wish, therefore, you would take the verses, 
and produce them as your own. I will pre- 
tend not to have had leisure to write any- 
thing. We shall then see in what manner 
he will speak of them.'' 1 agreed to this 
little artifice, and immediately transcribed the 
verses to prevent all suspicion. 

We met. Watson's performance was the 
first that was read. It had some beauties, 
but many faults. We next read Osborne's, 
which was much better. Ralph did it jus- 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 81 

tice, remarking a few imperfections, and ap- 
plauding such parts as were excellent. He 
had himself nothing to show. I: was now 
my turn. I made some difficulty ; seemed as 
if I wished to be excused ; pretended that I 
had no time to make corrections, &c. No 
excuse, however, was admissible, and the 
piece must be produced. It was read and 
reread. Watson and Osborne immediately 
resigned the palm, and united in applauding 
it. Ralph alone made a few remarks, and 
proposed some alterations ; but I defended 
my text. Osborne agreed with me, and told 
Ralph that he was no more able to criticise 
than he was able to write. 

When Osborne was alone with me, he ex- 
pressed himself still more strongly in favor 
of what he considered as my performance. 
He pretended that he had put some restraint 
on himself before, apprehensive of my con- 
struing his commendations into flattery. 
"But who would have supposed,'* said he, 
" Franklin to be capable of such a composi- 
tion? What painting, what energy, what 
fire ! He has surpassed the original. In 
his common conversation he appears not to 



82 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

have a choice of words ; he hesitates, and is 
at a loss; and yet, good God, how he 
writes !" 

At our next meeting Ralph discovered the 
trick we had played Osborne, who was rallied 
without mercy. 

By this adventure Ralph was fixed in his 
resolution of becoming a poet. I left noth- 
ing unattempted to divert him from his pur- 
pose ; but he persevered, till at last the read- 
ing of Pope* effected his cure : he became, 
however, a very tolerable prose writer. I 
shall speak more of him hereafter ; but as I 
shall probably have no farther occasion to 
mention the other two, I ought to observe 
here, that Watson died a few years after in 
my arms. He was greatly regretted ; for he 
was the best of our society. Osborne went 
to the islands, where he gained considerable 
reputation as a barrister, and was getting 
money ; but he died young. We had seri- 
ously engaged, that whoever died first should 

* Probably the Dunciad, where we find him thus im- 
mortalized by the autlior : 

Silence, ye wolves, while Ralph to Cynthia howls 
An<\ niakcH niirlit hideous; answer him. ye owls. 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 83 

return if possible and pay a friendly visit to 
the survivx)r, to give him an account of the 
other world; but he has never fulfilled his 
engagement. 

The Governor appeared to be fond of my 
company, and frequently invited me to his 
house. He always spoke of his intention of 
settling me in business as a point that was 
decided. I was to take with me letters of 
recommendation to a number of his friends ; 
and particularly a letter of credit, in order 
to obtain the necessary sum for the purchase 
of my press, types, and paper. He appointed 
various times for n>e to come for these letters, 
which would certainly be ready ; and, when 
I came, always put me ofi* to another day. 

These successive delays continued till the 
vessel, whose departure had been several 
times deferred, was on the point of setting 
sail; when I again went to Sir William's 
house, to receive my letters and take leave 
of him. I saw his secretary, Dr. Bard, who 
told me, that the Governor was extremely 
busy writing, but that he would be down at 
Newcastle before the vessel, and that the let- 
ters would be delivered to me there. 



84 LIFE OP DK. FRANKLIN. 

Ralph, though he was married and had a 
child, determined to accompany me in thia 
voyage. His object was supposed to be the 
establishing a correspondence with some mer- 
cantile houses, in order to sell goods by com- 
mission ; but I afterwards learned that, hav- 
ing reason to be dissatisfied with the parents 
of his wife, he proposed to himself to leave 
her on their hands, and never return to 
America again. 

Having taken leave of my friends, and in- 
terchanged promises of fidelity with Miss 
Readj I quitted Philadelphia. At Newcastle 
the vessel came to anchor. The Governor 
was arrived, and I went to his lodgings. 
His secretary received me with great civility, 
told me, on the part of the Governor, that 
he could not see me then, as he was engaged 
in afiairs of the utmost importance, but that 
he would send the letters on board, and that 
he wished me, with all his heart, a good voy- 
age and speedy return. I returned, some- 
what astonished, to the ship, but still without 
entertaining the slightest suspicion. 

Mr. Hamilton, a celebrated barrister of 
Philadelphia, had taken a passage to Eng- 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 85 

land for himself and his son, and, in conjunc- 
tion with Mr. Denham, a Quaker, and Messrs. 
Oniam and Russel, proprietors of a forge in 
Maryland, had agreed for the whole cabin, 
so that Ralph and I were obliged to take up 
our lodging with the crew. Being unknown 
to every body in the ship, we were looked 
upon as of the common order of people : but 
Mr. Hamilton and his son (it was James, who 
was afterwards governor) left us at Newcastle, 
and returned to Philadelphia, where he was 
recalled at a very great expense, to plead 
the cause of a vessel that had been seized ; 
and just as we were about to sail. Colonel 
French came on board, and showed me many 
civilities. The passengers upon this paid me 
more attention, and I was invited, together 
with my friend Ralph, to occupy the place 
in the cabin which the return of the Mr. 
Hamiltons had made vacant ; an oflfer which 
we very readily accepted. 

Having learned that the despatches of the 
Governor had been brought on board by 
Colonel French, I asked the captain for the 
letters that were to be intrusted to my care. 
He told me that they were all put together 



86 LIFE OF Dli. TRAiNKLIN. 

in the bag, which he could not open at pres- 
ent; but before we reached England, he 
would give me an opportunity of taking them 
out. I was satisfied with this answer, and 
we pursued our voyage. 

The company in the cabin were all very 
sociable, and we were perfectly well off as to 
provisions, as we had the advantage of the 
whole of Mr. Hamilton's, who had laid in a 
very plentiful stock. During the passage, 
Mr. Denham contracted a friendship for me, 
which ended only with his life : in other re» 
spects the voyage was by no means an agree- 
able one, as we had much bad weather. 

When we arrived in the river, the captain 
was as good as his word, and allowed me to 
search in the bag for the Governor's letters. 
I could not find a single one with my name 
w^ritten on it, as committed to my care ; but 
I selected six or seven, which I judged from 
the direction to be those that were intended 
for me ; particularly one to Mr. Basket, the 
King's printer, and another to a stationer, 
who was the first person I called upon. I 
delivered him the letter as coming from Gov- 
ernor Keith. " I have no acquaintance," 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 87 

said he, " with any such person ; " and, open- 
ing the letter, " Oh, it is from Riddlesden ! " 
he exclaimed. '' I have lately discovered 
him to be a very arrant knave, and wish to 
have nothing to do either with him or his 
letters." He instantly put the letter into my 
hand, turned upon his heel, and left me to 
serve some customers. 

I was astonished at finding these letters 
were not from the Governor. Reflecting, 
and putting circumstances together, I then 
began to doubt his sincerity. I rejoined my 
friend Denham, and related the whole affair 
to him. He let me at once into Keith's char- 
acter, told me there was not the least proba- 
bility of his having written a single letter ; 
that no one who knew him ever placed any 
reliance on him, and laughed at my credulity 
in supposing that the Governor would give 
me a letter of credit, when he had no credit 
for himself. As I showed some uneasiness 
respecting what step I should take, he ad- 
vised me to try to get employment in the 
house of some printer. " You may there," 
said he, " improve yourself in business, and 
you will be able to settle yourself the raor^ 



88 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

advantageously when you return to Amer- 



ica." 



We knew already, as well as the stationer, 
attorney Eiddlesden to be a knave. He had 
nearly ruined the father of Miss Read, by 
drawing him in to be his security. We 
learned from his letter, that he was secretly 
carrying on an intrigue, in concert with the 
Governor, to the prejudice of Mr. Hamilton, 
who, it was supposed, would by this time be 
in Europe. Denham, who was Hamilton's 
friend, was of opinion that he ought to be 
made acquainted with it; and, in reality, the 
instant he arrived in England, which was 
very soon after, I waited on him, and, as 
much from good- will to him, as from resent- 
ment against the Governor, put the letter into 
his hands. He thanked me very sincerely, 
the information it contained being of conse- 
quence to him; and from that moment be- 
stowed on me his friendship, which afterwards 
proved, on many occasions, serviceable to me. 

But what are we to think of a Governor 
who could play so scurvy a trick, and thus 
grossly deceive a poor young lad, wholly des- 
titute of experience ? It was a practice with 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 8^ 

him. Wishing to please every body, and 
having Kttle to bestow, he was lavish of 
promises. He was, in other respects, sen- 
sible and judicious, a very tolerable writer, 
and a good governor for the people ; though 
not so for the proprietaries, whose instruc- 
tions he frequently disregarded. Many of 
our best laws were his work, and established 
during his administration. 

Ralph and I were inseparable companions. 
We took a lodging together at three and 
sixpence a week, which was as much as we 
could afford. He met with some relations in 
London, but they were poor, and not able to 
assist him. He now, for the first time, in- 
formed me of his intention to remain in Eng- 
land, and that he had no thoughts of ever 
returning to Philadelphia. He was totally 
without money ; the little he had been able 
to raise having barely sufficed for his pas- 
sage. I had still fifteen pistoles remaining ; 
and to me he had from time to time recourse, 
while he tried to get employment. 

At first believing himself possessed of 
talents for the stage, he thought of turning 
actor* but Wilkes, to whom he applied, 



90 LiiE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

frankly advised him to renounce the idea, as 
it was impossible he should succeed. He 
next proposed to Roberts, a bookseller in 
Paternoster Row, to write a weekly paper in 
the manner of the Spectator, upon terms to 
which Roberts would not listen. Lastly, he en- 
deavored to procure employment as a copyist, 
and applied to the lawyers and stationers about 
the Temple, but he could find no vacancy. 

As to myself, I immediately got engaged 
at Palmer's, at that time a noted printer in 
Bartholomew-close, with whom I continued 
nearly a year. I applied very assiduously to 
my work ; but I expended with Ralph almost 
all that I earned. Plays and other places of 
amusement which we frequented together, 
having exhausted my pistoles, we lived after 
this from hand to mouth. He appeared to 
have entirely forgotten his wife and child, as 
I also, by degrees, forgot my engagements 
with Miss Read, to whom I never wrote more 
than one letter, and that merely to inform 
her that I was not likely to return soon. 
This was another grand error of my life, 
which I should be desirous of correcting were 
I to begin my career again. 



LIFE OF DR. rRANKLIN. 91 

I was employed at Palmer's on the second 
edition of Woolaston's Religion of Nature. 
Some of his arguments appearing to me not 
to be well founded, I wrote a small metaphy- 
sical treatise, in which I animadverted on 
those passages. It was entitled a " Disser- 
tation on Liberty and Necessity, Pleasure 
and Pain.' I dedicated it to my friend 
Ralph, and printed a small number of copies. 
Palmer upon this treated me with more con- 
sideration, and regarded me as a young man 
of talents ; though he seriously took me to 
task for the principles of my pamphlet, which 
he looked upon as abominable. The print- 
ing of this work was another error of my 
life. 

While I lodged in Little Britain I formed 
an acquaintance with a bookseller of the 
name of Wilcox, whose shop was next door 
tome. Circulating libraries were not then 
in use. He had an immense collection of 
books of all sorts. We agreed that, for a 
reasonable retribution, of which I have now 
forgotten the price, I should have free access 
to his library, and take what books I pleased, 
which I was to return when I had read them 



92 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

I considered this agreement as a very great 
advantage ; and I derived from it as much 
benefit as was in my power. 

My pamphlet falling into the hands of a 
surgeon, of the name of Lyons, author of a 
book entitled, " Infallibility of Human Judg- 
ment,*' was the occasion of a considerable in- 
tima-cy between us. He expressed great es- 
teem for me, came frequently to see me, in 
order to converse upon metaphysical subjects, 
and introduced me to Dr. Mandeville, author 
of the Fable of the Bees, who had instituted 
a club at a tavern in Cheapside, of which he 
was the soul : he was a facetious and very 
amusing character. He also introduced me, 
at Batson's cofiee-house, to Dr. Pemberton, 
who promised to give me an opportunity of 
seeing Sir Isaac Newton, which I very ard- 
ently desired ; but he never kept his word. 

I had brought some curiosities with me 
from America ; the principal of which was a 
purse made of the asbestos, which fire only 
purifies. Sir Hans Sloane, hearing of it, 
called upon me, and invited me to his house 
in Bloomsbury Square, where, after showing 
me every thing that was curious, he prevailed 



iilFE or DR. TRANKLIN. 98 

on me to add this piece to his collection ; for 
which he paid me very handsomely. 

There lodged in the same house with us a 
young woman, a milliner, who had a shop by 
the side of the Exchange. Lively and ^en- 
sible, and having received an education some- 
what above her rank, her conversation was 
very agreeable. Ralph read plays to her 
every evening. They became intimate. She 
took another lodging, and he followed her. 
They lived for some time together; but 
Ralph being without employment, she having 
a child, and the profits of her business not 
sufficing for the maintenance of three, he re- 
solved to quit London, and try a country 
school. This was a plan in which he thought 
himself likely to succeed ; as he wrote a fine 
hand, and was versed in arithmetic and ac- 
counts. But considering the office as be- 
neath him, and expecting some day to make 
a better figure in the world, when he should 
be ashamed of its being known that he had 
exercised a profession so little honorable, he 
changed his name, and did me the honor of 
assuming mine. He wrote to me soon after 
his departure, informing me that he was set- 



94 LIFE OF DR. FllANKUN. 

tied at a small village in Berkshire. In Ms 
letter lie recommended Mrs. T. the milliner, 
to my care, and requested an answer, di- 
rected to Mr. Franklin, schoolmaster at N**. 

He continued to write to me frequently, 
sending me large fragments of an epic poem 
he was composing, and which he requested 
me to criticise and correct. I did so, but not 
without endeavoring to prevail on him to re- 
nounce this pursuit. Young had just pub- 
lished one of his Satires. I copied and sent 
him a great part of it ; in which the author 
demonstrates the folly of cultivating the 
muses, from the hope, by their instrumental- 
ity, of rising in the world. It was all to no 
purpose ; paper after paper of his poem con- 
tinued to arrive every post. 

Meanwhile Mrs. T*** having lost, on his ac- 
count, both her friends and business, was fre- 
quently in distress. In this dilemma she had 
recourse to me, and, to extricate her from her 
difficulties, I lent her all the money I could 
spare. I felt a little too much fondness for 
her. Having at that time no ties of religion, 
and, taking advantage of her necessitous sit- 
uation, I attempted liberties (another error 



MFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 95 

of my life), which she repelled with becom- 
ing indignation. She informed Ralph of my 
conduct ;, and the affair occasioned a breach 
between us. When he returned to London, 
he gave me to understand that he considered 
all the obligations he owed me as annihilated 
by this proceeding ; whence I concluded that 
I was never to expect the payment of what 
money I had lent him, or advanced on his 
account. I was the less afficted at this, as 
he was wholly unable to pay me ; and as, by 
losing his friendship, I was relieved at the 
same time from a very heavy burden. 

I now began to think of laying by some 
money. The printing-house of Watts, near 
Lincoln's-inn-fields, being a still more consid- 
erable one than that in which I worked, it 
was probable I might find it more advanta- 
geous to be employed there. I offered my- 
self, and was accepted ; and in this house I 
continued during the remainder of my stay 
in London. 

On my entrance I worked at first as a 
pressman, conceiving that I had need of 
bodily exercise, to which I had been accus- 
tomed in America, where the printers work 



Ub LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

alternately as compositors and at the press. 
I drank nothing but water. The other work- 
men, to the number of about fifty, were great 
drinkers of beer. I carried occasionally a 
large form of letters in each hand, up and 
down stairs, while the rest employed both 
hands to carry one. They were surprised to 
see, by this and many other examples, that the 
American Aquaticy as they used to call me. 
was stronger than those who drank porter. 
The beer-boy had sufficient employment du- 
ring the whole day in serving that house 
alone. My fellow pressman drank every day 
a pint of beer before breakfast, a pint with 
bread and cheese for breakfast, one between 
breakfast and dinner, one again about six 
o'clock in the afternoon, and another after 
he had finished his day's work. This cus- 
tom appeared to me abominable : but he had 
need, he said, of all this beer, in order to ac- 
quire strength to work. 

I endeavored to convince him that the 
bodily strength furnished by the beer, could 
only be in proportion to the solid part of the 
barley dissolved in the water of which the 
beer was composed ; that there was a larger 



LIFE OP DR. FRANKLIN. 97 

portion of flour in a penny loaf, and that con- 
sequently if lie ate this loaf, and drank a pint 
of water with it, he would derive more strength 
from it than from a pint of beer. This rea- 
soning, however, did not prevent him from 
drinking his accustomed quantity of beer, 
and paying every Saturday night a score of 
. four or five shillings a week for this cursed 
beverage; an expense from which I was 
wholly exempt. Thus do these poor devils 
continue all their lives in a state of voluntary 
wretchedness and poverty. 

At the end of a few weeks. Watts having 
occasion for me above stairs as a compositor, 
I quitted the press. The compositors de- 
manded of me garnish-money afresh. This 
I considered as an imposition, having already 
paid below. The master was of the same 
opinion, and desired me not to comply. I 
thus remained two or three weeks out of the 
fraternity. I was consequently looked upon 
as excommunicated ; and whenever I was ab- 
sent, no little trick that malice could suggest 
was left unpractised upon me. I found my 
letters mixed, my pages transposed, my mat- 
ter broken, &c., &c., all which was attributed 

7 Franklin 



98 LIFE OP DR. FRANKLIN. 

to the spirit that haunted the chapel* aiKi 
tormented those that were not regularly ad- 
mitted. I was at last obliged to submit to 
pay, notwithstanding the protection of the 
master ; convinced of the folly of not keep- 
ing up a good understanding with those 
among whom we are destined to live. 

After this I lived in the utmost harmony 
with my fellow laborers, and soon acquired 
considerable influence among them. I pro- 
posed some alteration in the laws of the 
chapel, which I carried without opposition. 
My example prevailed with several of them 
to renounce their abominable practice of 
bread and cheese with beer ; and they pro- 
cured, like me, from a neighboring house, a 
good basin of warm gruel, in which was a 
small slice of butter, with toasted bread and 
nutmeg. This was a much better breakfast, 
which did not cost more than a pint of beer, 
namely, three-halfpence, and at the same 
time preserved the head clearer. Those who 
continued to gorge themselves with beer, 
often lost their credit with the publican, from 

* Printing-houses in general are thus denominated bj 
the workmen : the spirit they caU by the name of Ralph. 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 99 

neglecting to pay their score. They had then 
recourse to me, to become security for them ; 
their lights as they used to call it, being out. 
I attended at the pay-table every Saturday 
evening, to take up the little sum which I 
had made myself answerable for ; and which 
sometimes amounted to nearly thirty shil- 
lings a week. 

This circumstance added to my reputation 
of being a tolerable good gabber^ or, in other 
words, skilful in the art of burlesque, kept 
up my importance in the chapel. I had be- 
sides recommended myself to the esteem of 
my master by my assiduous application to 
business, never observing Saint Monday. 
My extraordinary quickness in composing 
always procured me such work as was most 
urgent, and which is commonly best paid ; 
and thus my time passed away in a very 
pleasant manner. 

My lodging in Little Britain being too far 
from the printing-house, I took another in 
Duke Street, opposite the Roman Catholic 
chapel. It was at the back of an Italian 
warehouse. The house was kept by a widow, 
who had a daughter, a servant, and a shop- 



100 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

boy ; but the latter slept out of the house. 
After sending to the people with whom I 
lodged in Little Britain, to inquire into my 
character, she agreed to take me in at the 
same price, three and sixpence a week ; con- 
tenting herself, she said, with so little, be- 
cause of the security she should derive, as 
they were all women, from having a man 
lodger in the house. 

She was a woman rather advanced in life, 
the daughter of a clergyman. She had been 
educated a Protestant; but her husband, 
whose memory she highly revered, had con- 
verted her to the Catholic religion. She had 
lived in habits of intimacy with persons of 
distinction ; of whom she knew various anec- 
dotes as far back as the time of Charles II. 
Being subject to fits of the gout, which often 
confined her to her room, she was sometimes 
disposed to see company. Hers was so amus- 
ing to me, that I was glad to pass the even- 
ing with her as often as she desired it. Our 
supper consisted only of half an anchovy 
a-piece, upon a slice of bread and butter, 
with half a pint of ale between us. But the 
entertainment was in her conversation. 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 101 

The early hours I kept, and the little 
trouble I occasioned in the family, made her 
loath to part with me ; and when I mentioned 
another lodging I had found, nearer the 
printing-house, at two shillings a week, which 
fell in with my plan of saving, she persuaded 
me to give it up, making herself an abate- 
ment of two shillings ; and thus I continued 
to lodge with her, during the remainder of 
my abode in London, at eighteen pence a 
week. 

In a garret of the house there lived, in a 
most retired manner, a lady seventy years of 
age, of whom I received the following account 
of my landlady. She was a Roman Catho- 
lic. In her early years she had been sent to 
the continent, and entered a convent with 
the design of becojning a nun ; but the cli- 
mate not agreeing with her constitution, she 
was obliged to return to England, where, as 
there was no monasteries, she made a vow to 
lead a monastic life, in as rigid a manner as 
circumstances would permit. She accord- 
ingly disposed of all her property to be ap- 
plied to charitable uses, reserving to herself 
only twelve pounds a year : and of this small 



102 LITE OE DR. FRANKLIN 

pittance she gave a part to the poor, living 
on water gruel, and never making use of fire 
but to boil it. She had lived in this garret 
a great many years, without paying rent to 
the successive Catholic inhabitants that had 
kept the house ; who indeed considered her 
abode with them as a blessing. A priest 
came every day to confess her. "I have 
asked her," said my landlady, ''how, living 
as she did, she could find so much employ- 
ment for a confessor? To which she an- 
swered, that it was impossible to avoid vain 
thoughts." 

I was once permitted to visit her. She 
was cheerful and polite, and her conversation 
agreeable. Her apartment was neat; but 
the whole furniture consisted of a mattrass, 
a table on which was a crucifix and a book, 
a chair, w' ich she gave me to sit on, and 
over the mantel-piece a picture of St. Vero- 
nica displaying her handkerchief, on which 
was seen the miraculous impression of the 
face of Christ, which she explained to me 
with great gravity. Her countenance was 
pale, but she had never experienced sick- 
ness; and I may adduce her as another 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 103 

proof how little is sufficient to maintain life 
and health. 

At the printing-house I contracted an in- 
timacy with a sensible young man of the 
name of Wygate, who, as his parents were in 
good circumstances, had received a better ed- 
ucation than is common among printers. He 
was a tolerable Latin scholar, spoke French 
fluently, and was fond of reading. I taught 
him, as well as a friend of his, to swim, by 
taking them twice only into the river ; after 
which they stood in need of no farther as- 
sistance. We one day made a party to go 
by water to Chelsea, in order to see the Col- 
lege, and Don Soltero's curiosities. On our 
return, at the request of the company, whose 
curiosity Wygate had excited, I undressed 
myself, and leaped into the river. I swam 
from near Chelsea the whole way to Black- 
friars Bridge, exhibiting, during my course, 
a variety of feats of activity and address, 
both upon the surface of the water, as well 
as under it. This sight occasioned much as- 
tonishment and pleasure to those to whom it 
was new. In my youth I took great delight 
in this exercise. I knew, and could execute 



104 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

all the evolutions and positions of Thevenot;, 
and I added to them some of my own inven- 
tion, in which I endeavored to unite grace- 
fulness and utility. I took a pleasure in dis- 
playing them all on this occasion, and was 
highly flattered with the admiration they 
excited. 

Wygate, besides his being desirous of per- 
fecting himself in this art, was the more at- 
tached to me from there being, in other re- 
spects, a conformity in our tastes and stud- 
ies. He at length proposed to me to make 
the tour of Europe with him, maintaining 
ourselves at the same time by working at our 
profession. I was on the point of consent- 
ing, when I mentioned it to my friend, Mr. 
Denham, with whom I was glad to pass an 
hour whenever I had leisure. He dissuaded 
me from the project, and advised me to think 
of returning to Philadelphia, which he was 
about to do himself. I must relate in this 
place a trait of this worthy man's character. 

He had formerly been in business at Bris- 
tol, but failing, he compounded with his cred- 
itors, and departed for America, where, by 
assiduous application as a merchant, he ac- 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 105 

quired in a few years a very considerable for- 
tune. Returning to England in the same 
vessel with myself, as I have related above, 
he invited all his old creditors to a feast. 
When assembled, he thanked them for the 
readiness with which they had received his 
small composition ; and, while they expected 
nothing more than a simple entertainment, 
each found under his plate, when it came to 
be removed, a draft upon a banker for the 
residue of his debt, with interest. 

He told me that it was his intention to 
carry back with him to Philadelphia a great 
quantity of goods, in order to open a store ; 
and he offered to take me with him in the ca- 
pacity of clerk, to keep his books, in which 
he would instruct me, copy letters, and su- 
perintend the store. He added, that as soon 
as I had acquired a knowledge of mercantile 
transactions, he would improve my situation, 
by sending me with a cargo of corn and flour 
to the American islands, and by procuring 
me other lucrative commission ; so that, with 
good management and economy, I might in 
time begin business with advantage for myself. 

I relished these proposals. London began 

8 Franklin 



106 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

to tire me ; the agreeable hours I had passed 
at Philadelphia presented themselves to my 
mind, and I wished to see them revive. I 
consequently engaged myself to Mr. Den- 
ham, at a salary of fifty pounds a year. This 
was indeed less than I earned as a compos- 
itor, but then I had a much fairer prospect. 
I took leave, therefore, as I believed forever, 
of printing, and gave myself up to my new 
occupation, spending all my time either in 
going from house to house with Mr. Denham 
to purchase goods, or in packing them up, or 
in expediting the workmen, &c., &c. When 
every thing, however, was on board, I had at 
last a few days leisure. 

During this interval, I was one day sent 
for by a gentleman, whom I knew only by 
name. It was Sir William Wyndham. I 
went to his house. He had by some means 
heard of my performances between Chelsea 
and Blackfriars, and that I had taught the 
art of swimming to Wygate and another 
young man in the course of a few hours. 
His two sons were on the point of setting out 
on their travels ; he was desirous that they 
should previously learn to swim, and offered 



LIFE OP DR. FRANKLIN 107 

me a very liberal reward if I would under- 
take to instruct them. They were not yet 
arrived in town, and the stay I should make 
was uncertain ; I could not therefore accept 
his proposal. I was led, however, to sup- 
pose from this incident, that if I had wished 
to remain in London, and open a swimming 
school, I should perhaps have gained a great 
deal of money. The idea struck me so for- 
cibly that, had the offer been made sooner, I 
should have dismissed the thought of return- 
ing as yet to America. Some years after, 
you and I had a more important business to 
settle with one of the sons of Sir William 
Wyndham, then Lord Egremont. But let 
us not anticipate events. 

I thus po.ssed about eighteen months in 
London, working almost without intermission 
at my trade, avoiding all expense on my own 
account, except going now and then to the 
play, and purchasing a few books. But my 
friend Ralph kept me poor. He owed me 
about twenty-seven pounds, which was so 
much money lost ; and when considered as 
taken from my little savings, was a very 
great sum. I had, notwithstanding this, a 



108 LIEE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

regard for him, as he possessed manj i*miable 
qualites. But though I had done nothing for 
myself in point of fortune, I had increased 
my stock of knowledge, either by the man}' 
excellent books I had read, or the conversa- 
tion of learned and literary persons witK 
whom I was acquainted. 
! We sailed from Gravesend on the 23d 0/ 
July, 1726. For the incidents of my voyage 
I refer you to my Journal, where you will 
find all its circumstances minutely related. 
We landed at Philadelphia on the 11th of 
the following October. 

Keith had been deprived of his office of 
Governor, and was succeeded by Major Gor- 
don. I met him walking in the streets as 
a private individual. He appeared a little 
ashamed at seeing me, but passed on without 
saying anything. 

I should have been equally ashamed my- 
self at meeting Miss Read, had not her fam- 
ily, justly despairin^y of my return after read- 
ing my letter, advised her to give me up, and 
marry a potter, of the name of Rogers ; to 
which she consented : but he never made her 
happy, and she soon separated from him, re- 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 109 

fusing to cohabit with him, or even bear his 
name, on account of a report which prevailed, 
of his having another wife. His skill in his 
profession had seduced Miss Read's parents ; 
but he was as bad a subject as he was excel- 
lent as a workman. He involved himself in 
debt, and fled, in the year 1727 or 1728, to 
the West Indies, where he died. 

During my absence Keimer had taken a 
more considerable house, in which he kept a 
shop, that was well supplied with paper, and 
various other articles. He had procured 
some new types, and a number of workmen : 
among whom, however, there was not one 
who was good for anything ; and he appeared 
not to want business. 

Mr. Denham took a warehouse in Water 
Street, where we exhibited our commodities. 
I applied myself closely, studied accounts, 
and became in a short time very expert in 
trade. We lodged and eat together. He 
was sincerely attached to me, and acted to- 
wards me as if he had been my father. On 
my side, I respected and loved him. My sit- 
uation was happy : but it was a happiness of 
no long duration. 



110 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

Early in February, 1727, when I entered 
into my twenty-second year, we were both 
taken ill. I was attacked with a pleurisy, 
which had nearly carried me off; I suffered 
terribly, and considered it as all over with 
me. I felt indeed a sort of disappointment 
when I found myself likely to recover, and 
regretted that I had still to experience, sooner 
or later, the same disagreeable scene again. 

I have forgotten what was Mr. Denham's 
disorder ; but it was a tedious one, and he at 
last sunk under it. He left me a small leg- 
acy in his will, as a testimony of his friend- 
ship ; and I was once more abandoned to my- 
self in the wide world, the warehouse being 
confided to the care of the testamentary ex- 
ecutor, who dismissed me. 

My brother-in-law, Holmes, who happened 
to be at Philadelphia, advised me to return 
to my former profession ; and Keimer offered 
me a very considerable salary if I would un- 
dertake the management of his printing-of- 
fice, that he might devote himself entirely to 
the superintendence of his shop. His wife 
and relations in London had given me a bad 
character of him ; and I was loath, for the 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN 111 

present, to have any concern with him. I 
endeavored to get employment as a clerk to 
a merchant ; but not readily finding a situa- 
tion, I was induced to accept Keimer's pro- 



The following were the persons I found in 
his printing-house. 

Hugh Meredith, a Pennsylvanian, about 
thirty-five years of age. He had been brought 
up to husbandry, was honest, sensible, had 
some experience, and was fond of reading ; 
but too much addicted to drinking. 

Stephen Potts, a young rustic, just broke 
from school, and of rustic education, with en- 
dowments rather above the common order, 
and a competent portion of understanding 
and gaiety ; but a little idle. Keimer had 
engaged these two at very low wages, 
which he had promised to raise every three 
months a shilling a week, provided their im- 
provement in the typographic art should 
merit it. This future increase of wages was 
the bait he had made use of to ensnare them. 
Meredith was to work at the press, and Potts 
to bind books, which he had engaged to 
teach them, though he understood neither 
himself. 



112 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

Jolin Savage, an Irishman, who had been 
brought up to no trade, and whose service, 
for a period of four years, Keimer had pur- 
chased of the captain of a ship. He was also 
to be a pressman. 

George Webb, an Oxford scholar, whose 
time he had in like manner bought for four 
years, intending him for a compositor. I 
shall speak more of him presently. 

Lastly, David Harry, a country lad, who 
was apprenticed to him. 

I soon perceived that Keimer*s intention, 
in engaging me at a price so much above 
what he was accustomed to give, was, that I 
might form all these raw journeymen and ap- 
prentices, who scarcely cost him anything, 
and who, being indentured, would, as soon 
as they should be suflEiciently instructed, en- 
able him to do without me. I nevertheless 
adhered to my agreement. I put the office 
in order, which was in the utmost confusion, 
and brought his people, by degrees, to pay 
attention to their work, and to execute it in 
a more masterly style. 

It was singular to see an Oxford scholar 
in the condition of a purchased servant. lie 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 113 

was not more than eighteen years of age; 
and the following are the particulars he gave 
me of himself. Born at Gloucester, he had 
been educated at a grammar-school, and had 
distinguished himself among the scholars by 
his superior style of acting, when they rep- 
resented dramatic performances. He was 
member of a literary club in the town ; and 
some pieces of his composition, in prose as 
well as in verse, had been inserted in the 
Gloucester papers. From hence he was sent 
to Oxford, where he remained about a year; 
but he was not contented, and wished above 
all things to see London, and become an 
actor. At length, having received fifteen 
guineas to pay his quarter's board, he de- 
camped with the money from Oxford, hid his 
gown in a hedge, and traveled to London. 
There, having no friend to direct him, he 
fell into bad company, soon squandered his 
fifteen guineas, could find no way of being 
introduced to the actors, became contempti- 
ble, pawned his clothes, and was in want of 
bread. As he was walking along the streets, 
almost famished with hunger, and not know- 
ing what to do, a recruiting bill was put into 



114 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

his hand, which offered an immediate treat 
and bounty-money to whoever was disposed 
to serve in America. He instantly repaired 
to the house of rendezvous, enlisted himself, 
was put on board a ship, and conveyed to 
America, without ever writing a line to in- 
form his parents what was become of him. 
His mental vivacity, and good natural dispo- 
sition, made him an excellent companion ; 
but he was indolent, thoughtless, and to the 
last degree imprudent. 

John, the Irishman, soon ran away. I be- 
gan to live very agreeably with the rest. 
They respected me, and the more so as they 
found Keimer incapable of instructing them, 
and as they learned something from me every 
day. We never worked on a Saturday, it 
being Keimer's sabbath ; so that I had two 
days a week for reading. 

I increased my acquaintance with persons 
of knowledge and information in the town. 
Xeimer himself treated me with great civility 
and apparent esteem ; and I had nothing to 
give me uneasiness but my debt to Vernon, 
which T wiis unable to pay, my savings as yet 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 115 

being very little. He had the goodness, 
however, not to ask me for the money. 

Our press was frequently in want of the 
necessary quantity of letter ; and there was 
no such trade as that of letter-founder in 
America, I had seen the practice of this art 
at the house of James, in London ; but had 
at the time paid it very little attention. I 
however contrived to fabricate a mould. I 
made use of such letters as we had for 
punches, founded new letters of lead in mat- 
rices of clay, and thus supplied, in a tol- 
erable manner, the wants that were most 
pressing. 

I also, upon occasions, engraved various 
ornaments, made ink, gave an eye to the 
shop ; in short, 1 was in every respect the 
factotum. But useful as I made myself, I 
perceived that my services became every day 
of less importance, in proportion as the other 
men improved; and when Keimer paid me 
my second quarter's wages, he gave me to 
understand that they were too heavy, and 
that he thought I ought to make an abate- 
ment. He became by degrees less civil, and 



116 LIFE or DR. FRANKLIN. 

assumed more the tone of master. He fre- 
quently found fault, was difficult to please, 
and seemed always on the point of coming to 
an open quarrel with me. 

I continued, however, to bear it patiently, 
conceiving that his ill humor was partly oc- 
casioned by the derangement and embarrass- 
ment of his affairo. At last a slight incident 
broke our connection. Hearing a noise in the 
neighborhood, I put my head out at the win- 
dow to see what was the matter. Keimer 
being in the street, observed me, and, in a 
loud and angry tone, told me to mind my 
work ; adding some reproaohful words, which 
piqued me the more, as they were uttered in 
the street, and the neighbors, whom the same 
noise had attracted to the \7ind0ws, were wit- 
nesses of the manner in which I was treated. 
He immediately came up to the printing- 
room, and continued to exclaim against me. 
The quarrel became warm on both sides, and 
he gave me notice to quit him at the expira- 
tion of three months, as had been agreed 
upon between us ; regretting that he was 
obliged to give me so long a term. I told 
him that his regre> was superfluous, as I was 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 117 

ready to quit him instantly ; and I took my 
hat and came out of the house, begging Mer- 
edith to take care of some things which I 
left, and bring them to my lodgings. 

Meredith came to me in the evening. We 
talked for some time upon the quarrel that 
had taken place. He had conceived a great 
veneration for me, and was sorry I should 
quit the house while he remained in it. He 
dissuaded me from returning to my native 
country, as I began to think of doing. He 
reminded me that Keimer owed me more than 
he possessed ; that his creditors began to be 
alarmed ; that he kept his shop in a wretched 
state, often selling things at prime cost for 
the sake of ready money, and continually 
giving credit without keeping any accounts ; 
that of consequence he must very soon fail, 
which would occasion a vacancy from which 
I might derive advantage. I objected my 
want of money. Upon which he informed 
that his father had a very high opinion of 
me, and, from a conversation that had passed 
between them, he was sure that he would ad- 
vance whatever might be necessary to estab- 
lish us, if I was willing to enter into partner- 



118 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN 

ship with him. "My time with Keimer," 
added he, '' will be at an end next spring. 
In the mean time we may send to London for 
our press and types. I know that I am no 
workman ; but if you agree to the proposal, 
your skill in the business will be balanced by 
the capital I shall furnish, and we will share 
the profits equally." His proposal was sea- 
sonable, and I fell in with it. His father, 
who was then in the town, approved of it. 
He knew that I had some ascendency over 
his son, as I had been able to prevail on him 
to abstain a long time from drinking brandy ; 
and he hoped that, when more closely con- 
nected with him, I should cure him . entirely 
of this unfortunate habit. 

I gave the father a list of what it would 
be necessary to import from London. He 
took it to a merchant, and the order was 
given. We agreed to keep the secret till the 
arrival of the materials, and I was in the 
mean time to procure work, if possible, in 
another printing-house; but there was no 
place vacant, and I remained idle. After 
some days, Keimer having the expectation 
of being employed to print some New Jersey 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 119 

money bills, that would require types and en- 
gravings' which I only could furnish, and 
fearful that Bradford, by engaging me, might 
deprive him of this undertaking, sent me a 
very civil message, telling me that old friends 
ought not to be disunited on account of a few 
words, which were the effect only of a mo- 
mentary passion, and inviting me to return 
to him. Meredith persuaded me to comply 
with the invitation, particularly as it would 
afford him more opportunities of improving 
himself in the business by means of my in- 
structions. I cS^ so; and we lived upon 
better terms than before our separation. 

He obtained the New Jersey business; 
and, in order to execute it, I constructed a 
copper-plate printing-press, the first that had 
been seen in the country. I o:a^rriJvVed vari- 
ous ornaments and vignettes for ihd bills; 
and we repaired to Burlington together, 
where I executed the whole to general satis- 
faction ; and he received a sum of money for 
this work, which enabled him to keep his 
head above water for a considerable time 
longer. 

At Burlington I formed an acquaintance 



120 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

with the principal personages of the prov- 
ince ; many of whom were commissioned bj 
the Assembly to superintend the press, and 
to see that no more bills were printed than 
the law had prescribed. Accordingly they 
were constantly with us, each in his turn; 
and he that came, commonly brought with 
him a friend or two to bear him company. 
My mind was more cultivated by reading 
than Keimer's ; and it was for this reason, 
probably, that they set more value on my 
conversation. They took me to their houses, 
introduced me to their friends, and treated 
me with the greatest civility; while Keimer, 
though master, saw himself a little neglected. 
He was, in fact, a strange animal, ignorant 
of the common modes of life, apt to oppose 
with rudeness generally received opinions, an 
enthusiast in certain points of religion, dis- 
gustingly unclean in his person, and a little 
knavish withal. 

We remained there nearly three months ; 
and at the expiration of this period I could 
include in the list of my friends. Judge Allen, 
Samuel Bustil, secretary of the pro^^nce, 
Isaac Pearson, Joseph Cooper, several of the 



LIFE OP DB. FRANKLIN. 121 

Smiths, all members of the Assembly, and 
Isaac Decon, inspector-general. The last was 
a shrewd and subtle old man. He told me, 
that when a boy, his first employment had 
been that of carrying clay to brick-makers ; 
that he did not learn to write till he was 
somewhat advanced in life ; that he was af- 
terwards employed as an underling to a sur- 
veyor, who taught him this trade, and that 
by industry he had at last acquired a compe- 
tent fortune. "I foresee,** said he one day 
to me, " that you will soon supplant this man 
(speaking of Keimer) and get a fortune in the 
business at Philadelphia.** He was totally 
ignorant at the time, of my intention of es- 
tablishing myself there, or any where else. 
These friends were very serviceable to me in 
the end, as was I also, upon occasion, to 
some of them ; and they have continued ever 
since their esteem for me. 

Before I relate the particulars of my en- 
trance into business, it may be proper to in- 
form you what was at that time the state of 
my mind as to moral principles, that you may 
see the degree of influence they had upon the 
subsequent events of my life. 



122 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

Mj parents had given me betimes religious 
impressions, and I received from my infancy 
a pious education in the principles of Galvan- 
ism. But scarcely was I arrived at fifteen years 
of age, when, after having doubted in turn of 
different tenets, according as I found them 
combatted in the different books that I read, 
I began to doubt of revelation itself. Some 
volumes against deism fell into my hands. 
They were said to be the substance of sermons 
preached at Boyle's Lecture. It happened 
that they produced on me an effect precisely 
the reverse of what was intended by the wri- 
ters; for the arguments of the deists, which 
were cited in order to be refuted, appeared 
to me much more forcible than the riefutation 
itself. In a word, I soon became a perfect 
deist. My arguments perverted some other 
young persons, particularly Collins and 
Ralph. But in the sequel, when I recol- 
lected that they had both used me extremely 
ill, without the smallest remorse ; when I con- 
sidered the behavior of Keith, another free- 
thinker, and my own conduct towards Ver- 
non and Miss Read, which at times gave me 
great uneasiness, I was led to suspect that 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 123 

this doctrine, though it might be true, was 
not very useful. I began to entertain a less 
favorable opinion of my London pamphlet, to 
which I had prefixed, as a motto, the follow- 
ing lines of Dry den: 

Whatever is is right ; though purblind man 
Sees but part of the chain, the nearest link, 
His eyes not carrying to the equal beam 
That poises all above. 

And of which the object was to prove, from 
the attributes of God, his goodness, wisdom, 
and power, that there could be no such thing 
as evil in the world ; that vice and virtue did 
not in reality exist, and were nothing more 
than vain distinctions. I no longer regard 
it as so blameless a work as I had formerly 
imagined ; and I suspected that some error 
must have imperceptibly glided into my ar- 
gument, by which all the inferences I had 
drawn from it had been ajffected, as fre- 
quently happens in metaphysical reasonings. 
In a word, I was at last convinced that truth, 
probity, and sincerity, in transactions be- 
tween man and man, were of the utmost im- 
portance to the happiness of life ; and I re- 
solved from that moment, and wrote the 



124 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

resolution in my Journal, to practise them as 
long as I lived. 

Revelation, indeed, as such, had no influ- 
ence on my mind ; but I was of opinion that, 
though certain actions could not be bad 
merely because revelation had prohibited 
them, or good because it enjoined them, yet 
it was probable that those actions were pro- 
hibited because they were bad for us, or en- 
joined because advantageous in their nature, 
all things considered. This persuasion. Di- 
vine Providence^ or some guardian angel, and 
perhaps a concurrence of favorable circum- 
stances co-operating, preserved me from all 
immorality, or gross and voluntary injustice, 
to which my want of religion was calculated 
to expose me, in the dangerous period of 
youth, and in the hazardous situations in 
which I sometimes found myself, among 
strangers, and at a distance from the eye 
and admonitions of my father. I may say 
voluntary, because the errors into which I 
had fallen, had been in a manner the forced 
result either of my own inexperience, or the 
dishonesty of others. Thus, before I entered 
on my own new career, I had imbibed solid 



LITE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 125 

principles, and a character of probity. I 
knew their value ; and I made a solemn en- 
gagement with myself never to depart from 
them. 

I had not long returned from Burlington 
before our printing materials arrived from 
London. I settled my accounts with Kei- 
mer, and quitted him with his own consent, 
before he had any knowledge of our plan. 
We found a house to let near the market. 
We took it; and, to render the rent less bur- 
densome (it was then twenty-four pounds a 
year, but I have since known it let for seventy), 
we admitted Thomas Godfrey, a glazier, with 
his family, who eased us of a considerable 
part of it ; and with him we agreed to board. 

We had no sooner unpacked our letters, 
and put our press in order, than a person of 
my acquaintance, George House, brought us 
a countryman, whom he had met in the 
streets inquiring for a printer. Our money 
was almost exhausted by the number of 
things we had been obliged to procure. The 
five shillings we received from this country- 
man, the first fruit of our earnings, coming 
so seasonably, gave me more pleasure than 



126 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

any sum I have since gained ; and the recol- 
lection of the gratitude I felt on this occa- 
sion to George House has rendered me often 
more disposed than perhaps I should other- 
wise have been, to encourage young begin- 
ners in trade. 

There are in every country morose beings, 
who are always prognosticating ruin. There 
was one of this stamp at Philadelphia. He 
was a man of fortune, declined in years, had 
an air of wisdom, and a very grave manner 
of speaking. His name was Samuel Mickel. 
I knew him not ; but he stopped one day at 
my door, and asked me if I was the young 
man who had lately opened a new printing- 
house. Upon my answering in the affirma- 
tive, he said that he was very sorry for me, 
as it was an expensive undertaking, and the 
money that had been laid out upon it would 
be lost, Philadelphia being a place falling 
into decay; its inhabitants having all, or 
nearly all of them, been obliged to call to- 
gether their creditors. That he knew, from 
undoubted fact, the circumstances which 
might lead us to suppose the contrary, such 
as new buildings, and the advanced price of 



LIFE OP DR. FRANKLIN. 127 

rent, to be deceitful appearances, which in 
reality cbntributed to hasten the general 
ruin ; and he gave me so long a detail of mis- 
fortunes, actually existing, or which were 
soon to take place, that he left me almost in 
a state of despair. Had I known this man 
before I entered into trade, I should doubt- 
less never have ventured. He continued, 
however, to live in this place of decay, and 
to declaim in the same style, refusing for 
many years to buy a house because all was 
going to wreck ; and in the end I had the 
satisfaction to see him pay five times as much 
for one as it would have cost him had he pur- 
chased it when he first began his lamenta- 
tions. 

I ought to have related, that, during the 
autumn of the preceding year, I had united 
the majority of well-informed persons of my 
acquaintance into a club, which we called by 
the name of the Junto^ and the object of 
which was to improve our understandings. 
We met every Friday evening. The regula- 
tions I drew up, obliged every member to 
propose, in his turn, one or more questions 
upon some point of morality, politics, or phi • 



128 LIJPE OF DR. FEANKLIN. 

losophy, which were to be discussed by the 
society ; and to read, once in three months, 
an essay of his own composition, on whatever 
subject he pleased. Our debates were under 
the direction of a president, and were to be 
dictated only by a sincere desire of truth ; 
the pleasure of disputing, and the vanity of 
triumph having no share in the business; 
and in order to prevent undue warmth, every 
expression which implied obstinate adherence 
to an opinion, and all direct contradiction, 
were prohibited, under small pecuniary pen- 
alties. 

The first members of our club were Joseph 
Breintnal, whose occupation was that of a 
scrivener. He was a middle-aged man, of a 
good natural disposition, strongly attached 
to his friends, a great lover of poetry, read- 
ing every thing that came in his way, and 
writing tolerably well, ingenious in many 
little trifles, and of an agreeable conversa- 
tion. 

Thomas Godfrey, a skilful, though self- 
taught mathematician, and who was after- 
wards the inventor of what now goes by the 
name of Hadley's dial; but he had little 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 129 

knowledge out of his own line, and was in- 
supportable in company, always requiring, 
like *he majority of mathematicians that have 
fallen in my way, an unusual precision in 
every thing that is said, continually contra- 
dicting, or making trifling distinctions; a 
sure way of defeating all the ends of conver- 
sation. He very soon left us. 

Nicholas Scull, a surveyor, and who be- 
came afterwards, surveyor-general. He was 
fond of books, and wrote verses. 

William Parsons, brought up to the trade 
of a shoemaker, but who, having a tasj;e for 
reading, had acquired a profound knowledge 
of mathematics. He first studied them with 
a view to astrology, and was afterwards the 
first to laugh at his folly. He also became 
surveyor-general. 

William Mawgride, a joiner, and very ex- 
cellent mechanic, and in other respects a man 
of solid understanding. 

Hugh Meredith, Stephen Potts, and George 
Webb, of whom I have already spoken. 

Robert Grace, a young man of fortune ; 
generous, animated, and witty : fond of epi- 
grams, but more fond of his friends. 

9 Franklin 



130 LIFE OF DR. FRANKJ.iiN 

And, lastly, William Coleman, at that nme 
a merchant's clerk, nnd nearly of my cvn 
age. He had a cooler and clearer head, a 
better heart, and more scrupulous morals than 
almost any other person I have ever met with. 
He became a very respectable merchant, and 
one of our provincial judges. Our friendship 
subsisted, without interruption, for more th.'in 
forty years, till the period of his death ; and 
the club continued to exist almost as long. 

This was the best school for politics and 
philosophy that then existed in the province ; 
for our questions, which were read once a 
week previous to their discussion, induced us 
to peruse attentively such books as were writ- 
ten upon the subjects proposed, that we might 
be able to speak upon them more pertinently. 
We thus acquired the habit of conversing 
more agreeably ; every object being discussed 
conformably to our regulations, and in a man- 
ner to prevent mutual disgust. To this cir- 
cumstance may be attributed the long dura^ 
tion of the club ; which I shall have frequent 
occasion to mention as I proceed. 

I have introduced it here, as being one 
of the means on which I had to count for 



'^.IFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. t^l 

success in my business, every member exert- 
ing himself to procure Avork for us. Breint- 
nal, ?jnong others, obtained for us, on the 
part of the quakers, the printing of foriy 
sheets of their history ; of which the rest was 
to be done by Keimer. Our execution of this 
work was by no means masterly ; as the price 
was very low. It was in folio, upon pro pa- 
tria paper, and in the pica letter, with heavy 
notes in the smallest type. I composed a 
sheet a day, and Meredith put it to the press. 
It was frequently eleven o'clock at night, 
sometimes later, before I had finished my 
distribution for the next day's task ; for the 
little things which our friends occasionally 
sent us, kept us back in this work : but I 
was so determined to compose a sheet a day, 
that one evening, when my form was imposed, 
and my day's work, as I thought, at an end, 
an accident having broken this form, and de- 
ranged two complete folio pages, I immedi- 
ately distributed, and composed them anew 
before I went to bed. 

This unwearied industry, which was per- 
ceived by our neighbors, began to acquire ua 
reputation and credit. I learned among other 



1S2 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN 

things, that our new printing-house, bciiig 
the subject of conversation at a club of mer- 
chants, who met every ereiiing, it was the 
general opinion that it would fail, there being 
alrer..v3y tvfo printing-houses izi the town, 
Kebner's and Bradford's. But Dr. Bard, 
whom you and I had occasion to see, many 
years after, at his native town of St. An- 
drew's, in Scotland, was of a different opin- 
ion. " The industry of this Franklin (said 
he) is superior to any thing of the kind I have 
ever witnessed. I see him still at work when 
I return from the club at night, and he is at 
it again in the morning before his neighbors 
are out of bed.** This account struck the 
rest of the assembly, and, shortly after, one 
of its members came to our house, and offered 
to supply us with articles of stationery ; but 
we wished not as yet to embarrass ourselves 
with keeping a shop. It is not for the sake 
of applause that I enter so freely into the 
particulars of my industry, but that such of 
my descendants as shall read these memoirs 
may know the use of this virtue, by seeing in 
the recital of my life the effects it operated 
in my favor. 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 183 

George Webb, having found a friend who 
lent him the necessary sum to buy out his 
time of Keimer, came one day to offer him- 
self to us as a journeyman. We could not 
employ him immediately ; but I foolishly told 
him, under the rose, that I intended shortly 
to publish a new periodical paper, and that 
we should then have work for him. My 
hopes of success, which I imparted to him, 
were founded on the circumstance, that the 
only paper we had in Philadelphia at that 
time, and which Bradford printed, was a pal- 
try thing, miserably conducted, in no respect 
amusing, and which yet was profitable. I 
consequently supposed that a good work of 
this kind could not fail of success. Webb be- 
trayed my secret to Keimer, who, to prevent 
me, immediately published the prospectus of 
a paper that he intended to institute himself, 
and in which Webb was to be engaged. 

I was exasperated at this proceeding, and, 
with a view to counteract them, not being 
able at present to institute my own paper, I 
wrote &ome humorous pieces in Bradford's, 
under the title of the Busy Body;* and which 

* A manuscript note in the file of the American Mer- 



134 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

was continued for several months by Breint- 
nal. I hereby fixed the attention of the pub- 
lic upon Bradford's paper ; and the prospec- 
tus of Keimer, which we turned into ridicule, 
was treated with contempt. He began, not- 
withstanding his paper ; and after continuing 
it for nine months, having at most not more 
than ninety subscribers, he offered it me for 
a mere trifle. I had for some time been 
ready for such an engagement ; I therefore 
instantly took it upon myself, and in a few 
years it proved extremely profitable to me. 

I perceive that I am apt to speak in the 
first person, though our partnership still con- 
tinued. It is, perhaps, because, in fact, the 
whole business devolved upon me. Meredith 
was no compositor, and but an indifferent 
pressman ; and it was rarely that he ab- 
stained from hard drinking. My friends 
were sorry to see me connected with him ; 
but I contrived to derive from it the utmost 
advantage the case admitted. 

Our first number produced no other effect 

cury, preserved in the Philadelphia library, says thtU 
Franklin wrote the five first numbers, and ] irt of thf 

eighth. 



Lliu: or DR. FRANKLIN. lo5 

than any other paper which had appeared in 
the province, as to type and printing ; but 
some remarks, in my peculiar style of writ- 
ing, upon the dispute which then prevailed 
between Governor Burnet and the Massachu- 
setts Assembly, struck some persons as above 
mediocrity, caused the paper and its editors 
to be talked of, and in a few weeks induced 
them to become our subscribers. Many oth- 
ers followed their example ; and our subscrip- 
tion continued to increase. This was one of 
the first good effects of the pains I had taken 
to learn to put my ideas on paper. I de- 
rived this farther advantage from it, that the 
leading men of the place, seeing in the author 
of this publication a man so w^ell able to use 
his pen, thought it right to patronize and en- 
courage me. 

The votes, laws, and other public pieces 
were printed by Bradford. An address of 
the House of Assembly to the governor had 
been executed by him in a very coarse and 
incorrect manner. We reprinted it with ac- 
curacy and neatness, and sent a copy to every 
member. They perceived the difference, and 
it so strengthened the influence of our friends 



136 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

in the Assembly, that we were nominated its 
printer for the following year. 

Among these friends I ought not to forget 
one member in particular, Mr. Hamilton, 
whom I have mentioned in a former part of 
my narrative, and who was now returned 
from England. He warmly interested him- 
self for me on this occasion, as he did like- 
wise on many others afterwards ; having con- 
tinued this kindness to me till his death. 

About this period Mr. Vernon reminded 
me of the debt I owed him, but without press- 
ing me for payment. I wrote a handsome 
letter on the occasion, begging him to wait a 
little longer, to which he consented ; and as 
soon as I was able I paid him principal and 
interest, with many expressions of gratitude ; 
so that this error of my life was in a manner 
atoned for. 

But another trouble now happened to me, 
which I had not the smallest reason to ex- 
pect. Meredith's father, who, according to 
our agreement, was to defray the whole ex- 
pense of our printing materials, had only paid 
a hundred pounds. Another hundred was 
still due, and the merchant being tired of 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 137 

waiting, commenced a suit against us. We 
bailed the action, but with the melancholy 
prospect, that, if the money was not forth- 
coming at the time fixed, the affair would 
come to issue, judgment be put in execution, 
our delightful hopes be annihilated, and our- 
selves entirely ruined ; as the type and press 
must be sold, perhaps at half their value, to 
pay the debt. 

In this distress, two real friends, whose 
generous conduct I have never forgotten, and 
never shall forget while I retain the remem- 
brance of any thing, came to me separately 
without the knowledge of each other, and 
without my having applied to either of them. 
Each offered whatever money might be ne- 
cessary to take the business into my own 
hands, if the thing was practicable, as they 
did not like I should continue in partnership 
with Meredith, who, they said, was frequently 
seen drunk in the streets, and gambling at 
alehouses, which very much injured our 
credit. These friends were William Coleman 
and Robert Grace. I told them, that while 
there remained any probability that the Mer- 
ediths would fulfil their part of the compact, 

10 Franklin 



138 LIFE OP DR. FRANKLIN. 

I could not propose a separation, as I con- 
ceived myself to be under obligations to them 
for what they had done already, and were 
still disposed to do, if they had the power ; 
but, in the end, should they fail in their en- 
gagement, and our partnership be dissolved, 
I should then think myself at liberty to ac- 
cept the kindness of my friends. 

Things remained for some time in this 
state. At last, I said one day to my partner, 
" Your father is perhaps dissatisfied with your 
having a share only in the business, and is 
unwilling to do for two, what he would do for 
you alone. Tell me frankly if that be the 
case, and I will resign the whole to you, and 
do for myself as well as I can.'* — '' No, (said 
he,) my father has really been disappointed 
in his hopes ; he is not able to pay, and I wish 
to put him to no farther inconvenience. I 
see that I am not at all calculated for a 
printer ; I was educated as a farmer, and it 
was absurd in me to come here, at thirty 
years of age, and bind myself apprentice to 
a new trade. Many of my countrymen are 
going to settle in North Carolina, where the 
soil is exceedingly favorable. I am tempted 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 189 

to go with them, and to resume my former 
occupation. You will doubtless find friends 
who will assist you. If you will take upon 
yourself the debts of the partnership, return 
my father the hundred pounds he has ad- 
vanced, pay my little personal debts, and 
give me thirty pounds and a new saddle, I 
will renounce the partnership, and consign 
over the whole stock to you." 

I accepted this proposal without hesitation. 
It was committed to paper, and signed and 
sealed without delay. I gave him what he 
demanded, and he departed soon after, for 
Carolina, from whence he sent me, in the 
following year, two long letters, containing 
the best accounts that had yet been given of 
that country, as to climate, soil, agriculture, 
ic, for he was well versed in these matters. 
I published them in my newspaper, and they 
were received with great satisfaction. 

As soon as he was gone, I applied to my 
two friends, and not wishing to give a dis- 
obliging peference to either of them, I ac- 
cepted from each half what he had ofi*ered 
me, and which it was necessary I should 
have. X paid the partnership debts, and con- 



140 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

tinned the business on my own account — 
taking care to inform the public, by adver- 
tisement, of the partnership being dissolved. 
This was, I think, in the year 1729, or there- 
about. 

Nearly at the same peHod, the people de- 
manded a new emission of paper money ; the 
existing and only one that had taken place 
in the province, and which amounted to fifteen 
thousand pounds, being soon to expire. The 
wealthy inhabitants, prejudiced against every 
sort of paper currency, from the fear of its 
depreciation, of which there had been an in- 
stance in the province of New England, to 
the injury of its holders, strongly opposed 
this measure. We had discussed this affair 
in our Junto, in which I was on the side of 
the new emission ; convinced that the first 
Bmall sum, fabricated in 1723, had done much 
good in the province, by favoring commerce, 
industry, and population, since all the houses 
were now inhabited, and many others build- 
ing ; whereas I remember to have seen, when 
I first paraded the streets of Philadelphia, 
eating my roll, the majority of those in Wal- 
nut Street, Second Street, fourth Street, bb 



LirE OF DR. iTKANKLIxN. 141 

well as a great number in Chestnut, and 
other streets, with papers on them signifying 
that they were to be let; which made me 
think at the time that the inhabitants of the 
town were deserting it one after another. 

Our debates made me so fully master of 
the subject, that I wrote and published an 
anonymous pamphlet, entitled, " An Inquiry 
into the Nature and Necessity of Paper Cur- 
rency." It was very well received by the 
lower and middling classes of people ; but it 
displeased the opulent, as it increased the 
clamor in favor of the new emission. Hav- 
ing, however, no writer among them capable 
of answering it, their opposition became less 
violent ; and there being in the House of 
Assembly a majority for the measure, it 
passed. The friends I had acquired in the 
House, persuaded that I had done the country 
essential service on this occasion, rewarded 
me by giving me the printing of the bills. 
It was a lucrative employment, and proved a 
very seasonable help to me ; another advan- 
tage which I derived from having habituated 
myself to write. 

Time and experience so fully demonstrated 



142 I.TFE OF PR. FRA.NKLIN. 

the utility of paper currency, that it never 
after experienced any considerable opposi- 
tion ; so that it soon amounted to 55,000Z. 
and in the year 1739 to 80,000Z. It has 
since risen, during the last war, to 350,000Z. ; 
trade, buildings, and population having in 
the interval continually increased : but I am 
now convinced that there are limits beyond 
which paper money would be prejudicial. 

I soon after obtained, by the influence of 
my friend Hamilton, the printing of the New- 
castle paper money, another profitable work, 
as I then thought it, little things appearing 
great to persons of moderate fortune ; and 
they were really great to me, as proving 
great encouragements. He also procured me 
the printing of the laws and votes of that 
government, which I retained as long as I 
continued in the business. 

I now opened a small stationer's shop. I 
kept bonds and agreements of all kinds, 
drawn up in a more accurate form than had 
yet been seen in that part of the world ; a 
work in which I was assisted by my friend 
Breintnal. I had also paper, parchment, 
pasteboard, books, kc^ One Whitemarsh, an 



LffE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 1 13 

excellent compositor, whom I had known in 
London, came to offer himself: I engaged 
him ; and he continued constantly and dili- 
gently to work with me. I also took an ap- 
prentice, the son of Acquila Rose. 

I began to pay, by degrees, the debt I had 
contracted ; and in order to ensure my credit 
and character as a tradesman, I took care 
not only to be really industrious and frugal, 
but also to avoid every appearance of the 
contrary. I was plainly dressed, and never 
seen in any place of public amusement. I 
never went a fishing or hunting. A book 
indeed enticed me sometimes from my work, 
but it was seldom, by stealth, and occasioned 
no scandal ; and to show that I did not think 
myself above my profession, I conveyed home, 
sometimes in a wheelbarrow, the paper I had 
purchased at the warehouses. 

I thus obtained the reputation of being an 
industrious young man, and very punctual in 
his payments. The merchants who imported 
articles of stationary solicited my custom; 
others offered to furnish me with books, and 
my little trade went on prosperously. 

Meanwhile the credit and business of 



144 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

Keimer diminishing every day, he was at 
last forced to sell his stock to satisfy hi^ 
creditors ; and he betook himself to Barba- 
does, where he lived for some time in a very 
impoverished state. His apprentice, David 
Harry, whom I had instructed while I worked 
with Keimer, having bought his materials, 
succeeded him in the business. I was appre- 
hensive, at first, of finding in Harry a pow- 
erful competitor, as he was allied to an opu- 
lent and respectable family ; I therefore pro- 
posed a partnership which, happily for me, 
he rejected with disdain. He was extremely 
proud, thought himself a fine gentleman, 
lived extravagantly, and pursued amusements 
which sufi*ered him to be scarcely ever at 
home ; of consequence he became in debt, 
neglected his business, and business neglected 
him. Finding in a short time nothing to do 
in the country, he followed Keimer to Bar- 
badoes, carrying his printing materials with 
him. There the apprentice employed his old 
master as a journeyman. They were contin* 
aally quarreling ; and Harry, still getting in 
debt, was obliged at last to sell his press and 
types and return to his old occupation of 



tlFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 145 

husbandly in Pennsylvania. The person who 
purchased them employed Keimer to manage 
the business, but he died a few years after. 

I had now at Philadelphia no competitor 
but Bradford, who, being in easy circum- 
stances, did not engage in the printing of 
books, except now and then as workmen 
chanced to offer themselves; and was not anx- 
ious to extend his trade. He had, however, 
one advantage over me, as he had the direc- 
tion of the post-office, and was of consequence 
supposed to have better opportunities of ob- 
taining news. His paper was also supposed to 
be more advantageous to advertising custom- 
ers ; and in consequence of that supposition, 
his advertisements were much more numerous 
than mine ; this was a source of great profit 
to him, and disadvantageous to me. It was 
to no purpose that I really procured other 
papers and distributed my own, by means of 
the post; and the public took for granted 
my inability in this respect ; and I was in- 
deed unable to conquer it in any other mode 
than by bribing the postboys, who served me 
only by stealth, Bradford being so illiberal as 
to forbid them. This treatment of his ex- 



146 IJFE OP DR. FRANKLIN. 

cited my resentment ; and my disgust was so 
rooted that, when I afterwards succeeded 
him in the post-office, I took care to avoid 
copying his example. 

I had hitherto continued to board with 
Godfrey, who, with his wife and children, 
occupied part of my house, and half of the 
shop for his business ; at which indeed he 
worked very little, being always absorbed by 
mathematics. Mrs. Godfrey formed a wish 
of marrying me to the daughter of one of her 
relations. She contrived various opportuni- 
ties of bringing us together, till she saw that 
I was captivated ; which was not difficult ; 
the lady in question possessing great personal 
merit. The parents encouraged my addresses, 
by inviting me continually to supper, and 
leaving us together, till at last it was time to 
come to an explanation. Mrs. Godfrey un- 
dertook to negotiate our little treaty. I gave 
her to understand, that I expected to receive 
with the young lady a sum of money that 
would enable me at least to discharge the re- 
mainder of the debt for my printing materi- 
als. It was then, I believe, not more than a 
hundred pounds. She brought me for an- 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 147 

swer, that they had no such sum at their dis- 
posal/ I observed that it might easily be ob- 
tained, by a mortgage on their house. The 
reply to this was, after a few days interval, 
that they did not approve of the match ; that 
thev had consulted Bradford, and found that 
the business of a printer was not lucrative ; 
that my letters would soon be worn out, and 
must be supplied by new ones ; that Keimer 
and Harry had failed, and that probably, I 
should do so too. Accordingly they forbade 
me the house, and the young lady was con- 
fined. I know not if they had really changed 
their minds, or if it was merely an artifice, 
supposing our afiections to be too far engaged 
for us to desist, and that we should contrive 
to marry secretly, vhich would leave them at 
liberty to give or not as they pleased. But, 
suspecting this motive, I never went again to 
their house. 

Some time after, Mrs. Godfrey informed 
me that they were favorably disposed towards 
me, and wished me to renew the acquaint 
ance ; but I declared a firm resolution nevei ' 
to have any thing more to do with the family 
Tlie Godfreys expressed some resentment a 



148 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

this ; and as we could no longer agree, they 
changed their residence, leaving me in pos- 
session of the whole house, I then resolved 
to take no more lodgers. This aflfair having 
turned my thoughts to marriage, I looked 
around me, and made overtures of alliance in 
other quarters; but I soon found that the 
profession of a printer, being generally looked 
upon as a poor trade, I could expect no money 
with a wife, at least, if I wished her to pos- 
sess any other charm. Meanwhile, that pas- 
sion of youth, so difficult to govern, had often 
drawn me into intrigues with despicable w^o- 
men who fell in my way ; which were not un- 
accompanied with expense and inconvenience, 
besides the perpetual risk of injuring my 
health, and catching a disease which I 
dreaded above all things. But I was fortu^ 
nate enough to escape this danger. 

As a neighbor and old acquaintance, I hacJ 
kept up a friendly intimacy with the familj 
of Miss Read. Her parents had retained an 
aJBfection for me from the time of my lodging 
in their house. I was often invited thither ; 
thev consulted me about their affairs, and I 
had been sometimes serviceable to them. I 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 149 

ifas touched with the unhappy situation of 
^beir daughter, who was almost always mel- 
ancholy, and continually seeking solitude. I 
regarded my forgetfulness and inconstancy, 
during my abode in London, as the principal 
part of her misfortune, though her mother 
had the candor to attribute the fault to her- 
self, rather than to me, because, after having 
prevented our marriage previously to my de- 
parture, she had induced her to marry an- 
other in my absence. 

Our mutual affection revived; but there 
existed great obstacles to our union. Her 
marriage was considered, indeed, as not be- 
ing valid, the man having, it was said, a 
former wife, still living in England ; but of 
"this it was difficult to obtain a proof at so 
great a distance ; and though a report pre- 
vailed of his being dead, yet we had no cer- 
tainty of it ; and, supposing it to be true, he 
had left many debts, for the payment of 
which his successor might be sued. We ven- 
tured, nevertheless, in spite of all these diffi- 
culties; and I married her on the 1st of 
September, 1730. None of the inconveni- 
^ences we had feared happened to us. She 



150 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

proved to me a good and faithful companion, 
and contributed essentially to the success of 
my shop. We prospered together, and it was 
our mutual study to render each other happy. 
Thus I corrected, as well as I could, this 
great error of my youth. 

Our club was not at that time established 
at a tavern. We held our meetings at the 
house of Mr, Grace, who appropriated a room 
to the purpose. Some member observed one 
day that as our books were frequently quoted 
in the course of our discussions, it would be 
convenient to have them collected in the room 
in which we assembled, in order to be con- 
sulted upon occasion, and that, by thus form- 
ing a common library of our individual col- 
lections, each would have the advantage of 
using the books of all the other members, 
which would nearly be the same as if he pos- 
sessed them all himself. The idea was ap- 
proved, and we accordingly brought such 
books as we thought we could spare, which 
were placed at the end of the clubroom. 
They amounted not to so many as we ex- 
pected; and though we made considerable 
use of them, yet seme inconveniences resuU- 



LIFE or DR. FRANKLIN. 15} 

ing, from want of care, it was agreed, after 
about a year, to discontinue the collection; 
and each took away such books as belonged 
to him. 

It was now that I first started the idea of 
establishing, by subscription, a public library. 
I drew up the proposals, had them engrossed 
in form by Brockden, the attorney, and my 
project succeeded, as will be seen in the se- 

rj-j-jckj SIS !)£ 5|6 1» "(S ^F 

[The life of Dr. Franklin, as written by 
himself, so far as has yet been communicated 
to the world, breaks off in this place. We 
understand that it was continued by him 
somewhat farther, and we hope that the re- 
mainder will, at some future period, be com- 
municated to the public. We have no hes- 
itation in supposing that every reader will 
find himself greatly interested by the frank 
simplicity and the philosophical discernment 
by which these pages are so eminently char- 
acterized. We have therefore thought proper, 
in order as much as possible to relieve his re- 
gret, to subjoin the following continuation by 
one of the Doctor's intimate friends. It is 



152 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

extracted from an American periodical pub* 
lication, and was written by the late Dr 
Stuber* of Philadelphia.] ^ 

The promotion of literature had been little 
attended to in Pennsylvania. Most of the 
inhabitants were too much immersed in busi- 
ness to think of scientific pursuits ; and those 

■* Dr. Stuber was bom in Philadelphia, of German pa- 
rents. He was sent, at an early age, to the university, 
where his genius, diligence, and amiable temper soon 
acquired him the particular notice and favor of those 
under whose immediate direction he was placed. After 
passing through the common course of study, in a much 
shorter time than usual, he left the university, at the age 
of sixteen, with great reputation. Not long after, he en- 
tered on the study of ph3\sic ; and the zeal with which 
he pursued it, and the advances he made, gave his 
friends reason to form the most flattering prospects of 
his future eminence and usefulness in his profession. As 
Dr. Stuber's circumstances were very moderate, he did 
not think this pursuit well calculated to answer them. 
He therefore relinquished it, after he had obtained a de- 
gree in the profession, and qualified himself to practise 
with credit and success ; and immediately entered on the 
study of the law. While in pursuit of the last-mentioned 
object he was prevented, by a premature death, from 
reaping the fruit of those talents with which he was en- 
dowed, and of a youth spent in the ardent and success- 
ful pursuit of useful and elegant literature. 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 153 

few, whose inclinations led them to study, 
found it difficult to gratify them, from the 
want of libraries sufficiently large. In such 
circumstances, the establishment of a pub- 
lic library was an important event. This 
was £rst set on foot by Franklin, about the 
year 1731. Fifty persons subscribed forty 
shillings each, and agreed to pay ten shillings 
annually. The number increased ; and, in 
1742, the company was incorporated by the 
name of "The Library Company of Phila- 
delphia." Several other companies were 
formed in this city in imitation of it. Tl (-se 
were all at length united with the Libi ary 
Company of Philadelphia, which thus receiv- 
ed a considerable accession of books and 
property. It now contains about eight thou- 
sand volumes on all subjects, a philosophical 
apparatus, and a well chosen collection of 
natural and artificial curiosities. For its sup- 
port the Company now possessed landed prop- 
erty of considerable value. They have ln^-"'y 
built an elegant house in Fifth Street, in the 
front of which will be erected a marble statue 
of their founder, Benjamin Franklin. 

This institution was greatly encouraged by 



IM LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

the friends of literature in America and in 
Great Britain. The Penn family distinguish- 
ed themselves by their donations. Amongst 
the earliest friends of this institution must be 
mentioned the late Peter Collinson, the friend 
and companion of Dr. Franklin. He not 
only made considerable presents himself, and 
obtained others from his friends, but volunta- 
rily undertook to manage the business of the 
Company in London, recommending books, 
purchasing and shipping them. His exten- 
sive knowledge, and zeal for the promotion of 
science, enabled him to execute this import- 
ant trust with the greatest advantage. He 
continued to perform these services for more 
than thirty years, and uniformly refused to ac- 
cept of any compensation. During this time 
he communicated to the directors every in- 
formation relative to improvements and discov- 
eries in the arts, agriculture, and philosophy. 
The beneficial influence of this iiistitution 
was soon evident. The terms of subscription 
to it were so moderate that it was accessible 
to every one. Its advantages were not con- 
fined to the opulent. The citizens in the mid- 
dle and lower walks of life were equally par- 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLl-N. lOD 

makers of them. Hence a degree of informa- 
tion was extended amongst all classes of 
people. The example was soon followed. 
Libraries were established in various places, 
and they are now become very numerous in 
the United States, and particularly in Penn- 
sylvania. It is to be hoped that they will be 
still more widely extended, and that informa- 
tion will be every where increased. This 
will be the best security for maintaining our 
liberties. A nation of well informed men, 
who have been taught to know and prize the 
rights which God has given them, cannot be 
enslaved. It is in the regions of ignorance 
that tyranny reigns. It flies before the light 
of science. Let the citizens of America, then, 
encourage institutions calculated to diffuse 
knowledge amongst the people ; and amongst 
these public libraries are not the least im- 
portant. 

In 1732, Franklin began to publish Poor 
Rlchard*s Almanac. This was remarkable 
for the numerous and valuable concise max- 
ims which it contained, all tending to exhort 
to industry and frugality. It was continued 
u>Y many years. In the almanac for the last 



156 LIFE OP DR. FRANKLIN. 

year, all the maxims were collected in an ac 
dress to the reader, entitled, " The Way t 
Wealth.** This has been translated into va- 
rious languages, and inserted in different 
publications. It has also been printed on a 
large sheet, and may be seen framed in many 
houses in this city. This address contains, 
perhaps, the best practical system of economy 
that ever has appeared. It is written in a 
manner intelligible to every one, and which 
cannot fail of convincing every reader of the 
justice and propriety of the remarks and 
advice which it contains. The demand for 
this almanac was so great that ten thousand 
have been sold in one year ; which must be 
considered as a very large number, especially 
when we reflect, that this country was, at 
that time, but thinly peopled. It cannot be 
doubted that the salutary maxims contained 
in these almanacs must have made a favora- 
ble impression upon many of the readers of 
them. 

It was not long before Franklin entered 
upon his political career. In the year 1736, 
he was appointed clerk to the general as- 
sembly of Pennsylvania ; and was re-elected 



LIFE OF DR. FEANBLUN. 157 

by succeeding assemblies for several years, 
until he was chosen a representative for the 
city of Philadelphia. 

Bradford was possessed of some advantages 
over Franklin, by being post-master, thereby 
having an opportunity of circulating his paper 
more extensively, and thus rendering it a 
better vehicle for advertisements, &c. Frank- 
lin, in his turn, enjoyed these advantages, by 
being appointed post-master of Philadelphia 
in 1737. Bradford, while in office, had acted 
ungenerously towards Franklin, preventing 
as much as possible the circulation of his 
paper. He had now an opportunity of re- 
taliating ; but his nobleness of soul prevented 
him from making use of it. 

The police of Philadelphia had early ap- 
pointed watchmen, whose duty it was to 
guard the citizens against the midnight rob- 
ber, and to give an immediate alarm in case 
of fire. This duty is, perhaps, one of the 
most important that can be committed to 
any set of men. The regulations, however, 
were not sufficiently strict, Franklin saw 
the dangers arising from this cause, and sug- 
gested an alteration, so as to oblige the ^uar- 



158 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

dians of the night to be more watchful over 
the lives and property of the citizens. The 
propriety of this was immediately perceived, 
and a reform was effected. 

There is nothing more dangerous to grow- 
ing cities than fires. Other causes operate 
slowly, and almost imperceptibly ; but these 
in a moment render abortive the labors of 
ages. On this account there should be, in 
all cities, ample provisions to prevent fires 
from spreading. Franklin early saw the 
necessity of these ; and, about the year 1738, 
formed the first fire company in this city. 
This example was soon followed by others ; 
and there are now numerous fire companies 
in the city and liberties. To these may be 
attributed in a great degree the activity in 
extinguishing fires, for which the citizens of 
Philadelphia are distinguished, and the in- 
considerable damage which this city has sus- 
tained from this cause. Some time after, 
Franklin suggested the plan of an association 
for insuring houses from losses by fire, which 
was adopted ; and the association continues 
to this day. The advantages experienced 
from it have been great. 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 1:^^ 

From the first establishment of Pennsyl- 
vama, a spirit of dispute appears to have 
prevailed amongst its inhabitants. During 
the lifetime of William Penn, the constitu- 
tion had been three times altered. After 
this period, the history of Pennsylvania is 
little else than a recital of the quarrels be- 
tween the proprietaries, or their governors, 
and the Assembly. The proprietaries con- 
tended for the right of exempting their lands 
from taxes ; to which the Assembly would by 
no means consent. This subject of dispute 
interfered in almost every question, and pre- 
vented the most salutary laws from being 
enacted. This at times subjected the people 
to great inconveniences. In the year 1744, 
during a war between France and Great 
Britain, some French and Indians had made 
inroads upon the frontier inhabitants of the 
province who were unprovided for such an 
attack. It became necessary that the citi- 
zens should arm for their defense. Governor 
Thomas recommended to the Assembly, who 
were then sitting, to pass a militia law. To 
this they would agree only upon condition 
that he should give his assent to certain laws, 



160 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

which appeared to them calculated to pro- 
mote the interests of the people. As he 
thought these laws would be injurious to the 
proprietaries, he refused his assent to them ; 
and the Assembly broke up without passing a 
militia law. The situation of the province 
was at this time truly alarming ; exposed to 
the continual inroad of an enemy, destitute 
of every means of defense. At this crisis 
Franklin stepped forth, and proposed to a 
meeting of the citizens of Philadelphia, a 
plan of a voluntary association for the de- 
fense of the province. This was approved 
of, and signed by twelve hundred persons im- 
mediately. Copies were instantly circulated 
throughout the province ; and in a short time 
the number of signers amounted to ten thou- 
sand. Franklin was chosen colonel of the 
Philadelphia regiment ; but he did not think 
proper to accept of the honor. 

Pursuits of a different nature now occupied 
the greatest part of his attention for some 
years. He engaged in a course of electrical 
experiments, with all the ardor and thirst for 
discovery which characterized the philoso- 
phers of that day. Of all the branches of 




A common library of our collections. ' — Page 150, 

Autobiography of Benjaniiu Franklin. 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 161 

experimental philosopliy, electricity had been 
least explored. The attractive power of am- 
ber is mentioned by Theophrastus and Pliny, 
and from them by later naturalists. In the 
year 1600, Gilbert, an English physician, 
enlarged considerably the catalogue of sub- 
stances which have the property of attracting 
light bodies. Boyle, Otto Guericke, a burgo- 
master of Magdeburg, celebrated as the in- 
venter of the airpump, Dr. Wall, and Sir 
Isaac Newton, added some facts. Guericke 
first observed tlie repulsive power of electric- 
ity, and the light and noise produced by it. 
In 1709, Havresbec communicated some im- 
portant observations and experiments to the 
world. For several years electricity was 
entirely neglected, until Mr. Grey applied 
himself to it in 1728, with great assiduity. 
He and his friend Mr. Wheeler made a great 
variety of experiments; in which they de- 
monstrated, that electricity may be commu- 
nicated from one body to another, even with- 
out being in contact, and in this way may be 
conducted to a great distance. Mr. Grey ' 
afterwards found, that, by suspending rods of 
iron by silk or hair lines, and bringing an 

11 Franklin 



I'^*^ LIFE OF DR. FEANKLIN. 

excited tube under them, sparks might be 
drawn, and a light perceived at the extrem- 
ities in the dark, M. du Faye, intendant of 
the French King's gardens, made a number 
of experiments, which added not a little to 
the science. He made the discovery of two 
kinds of electricity, which he called vitreoua 
and resinous ; the former produced by vub 
bing glass, the latter from excited sulphur, 
sealingwax, &c. But this idea he afterwards 
gave up as erroneous. Between the years 
1739 and 1742, Desauguliers made a number 
of experiments, but added little of import- 
ance. He first used the terms conductors 
J and electrics per se. In 1742, several inge- 
nious Germans engaged in this subject ; of 
these the principal were, Professor Boze, of 
Wittemberg, Professor Winkler, of Leipsic, 
Gordon, a Scotch Benedictine monk, pro- 
fessor of philosophy at Erfurt, and Dr. Ludolf, 
of Berlin. The result of their researches 
astonished the philosophers of Europe. Their 
apparatus was large, and by means of it they 
were enabled to colkct large quantities of 
the electric fluid, and thus to produce phe- 
nomena which had been hitherto unobserved. 



UFB OP DB. FRANKLIN. 163 

They killed small birds, and set spirits on fire. 
Their experiments excited the curiosity of 
other philosophers. CoUinson, about the year 
1745, sent to the Library Company of Phila- 
delphia an account of these experiments, to- 
gether with a tube, and directions how to use 
it. Franklin, with some of his friends, im- 
mediately engaged in a course of experi- 
ments ; the result of which is well known. 
He was enabled to make a number of import- 
ant discoveries, and to propose theories to ac- 
count for various phenomena, which have 
been universally adopted, and which bid fair 
to endure for ages. His observ^ations he com- 
municated, in a series of letters, to his friend 
Collinson ; the first of which is dated March 
28, 1747. In these he shows the power of 
points in drawing and throwing off the elec- 
trical matter, which had hitherto escaped the 
notice of electricians. He also made the 
grand discovery of a plus and minus ^ or of 
a positive and negative state of electricity. 
We give him the honor of this without hesi- 
tation ; although the English have claimed it 
for their countryman. Dr. Watson. Watson's 
paper is dated January 21, 1748 ; Franklin's, 



164 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

July 11, 1847, several months prior. Short- 
\j after, Franklin, from his principles of the 
plus and minus state, explained in a satisfac- 
tory manner, the phenomena of the Leyden 
phial, first observed by Mr. Cuneus, or by 
Professor Muschenbroeck, of Leyden, which 
had much perplexed philosophers. He show- 
ed clearly, that the bottle, when charged, 
contained no more electricity than before, but 
that as much was taken from one side as was 
thrown on the other ; and that, to discharge 
it, nothing was necessary but to produce a 
communication between the two sides, by 
which the equilibrium might be restored, and 
that then no signs of electricity would re- 
main. He afterwards demonstrated, by ex- 
periments, that the electricity did not reside 
in the coating, as had been supposed, but in 
the pores of the glass itself. After a phial 
was charged, he removed the coating, and 
found that upon applying a new coating the 
shock might still be received. In the year 
1749, he first suggested his idea of explain- 
ing the phenomena of thunder gusts, and of 
the aurora borcalis, upon electrical principles. 
He points out many particulars in which 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 165 

lightning and electricity agree; and he ad- 
duces many facts, and reasonings from facts, 
in support of his positions. In the same year 
he conceived the astonishingly bold and grand 
idea of ascertaining the truth of his doctrine, 
by actually drawing down the lightning, by 
means of sharp pointed iron rods raised into 
the region of the clouds. Even in this un- 
certain state, his passion to be useful to man- 
kind displays itself in a powerful m^rner. 
Admitting the identity of electricity aod li^-ht- 
ning, and knowing the power of points in re- 
pelling bodies charged with electricity, and 
in conducting their fire silently and imper- 
ceptibly, he suggested the idea of securing 
houses, ships, &c., from being damaged by 
lightning, by erecting pointed rods, that 
should rise some feet above the most elevated 
part, and descend some feet into the ground 
or the water. The effect of these, he con- 
cluded, would be either to prevent a stroke 
by repelling the cloud beyond the striking 
distance, or by drawing off the electrical 
fire which it contained ; or, if they could 
not not effect this, they would at least con- 
duct the electric matter to the earth, without 
any injury to the building. 



166 LIFE OF DE. FRANKLIN. 

It was not until the summer of 1752, that 
he was enabled to complete his grand and 
unparalleled discovery by experiment. The 
plan which he had originally proposed, was, 
to erect on some high tower, or other ele- 
vated place, a sentry box, from which should 
rise a pointed iron rod, insulated by being 
fixed in a cake of resin. Electrified clouds 
passing over this, would, he conceived, im- 
part to it a portion of their electricity, which 
woald be rendered evident to the senses 
by sparks being emitted, when a key, the 
knuckle, or other conductor, was presented 
to it. Philadelphia at this time ajfforded no 
opportunity of trying an experiment of this 
kind. While Franklin was waiting for the 
erection of a spire, it occurred to him that he 
might have more ready access to the region 
of clouds by means of a common kite. He 
prepared one by fastening two cross sticks 
to a silk handkerchief, which would not suf- 
fer so much from the rain as paper. To 
the upright stick was afiixed an iron point, 
the string was, as usual, of hemp, except the 
lower end, which was silk. Where the hempen 
Btiing terminated, a key was fastened. With 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 167 

this apparatus, on the appearance of a thun- 
der gust approaching, he went out into the 
commons, accompanied by his son, to whom 
alone he communicated his intentions, well 
knowing the ridicule which, too generally for 
the interest of science, awaits unsuccessful 
experiments in philosophy. He placed him- 
self under a shade, to avoid the rain — his 
kite was raised — a thunder-cloud passed over 
it — no sign of electricity appeared. He al- 
most despaired of success, when, suddenly, he 
observed the loose fibres of his string to move 
towards an erect position. He now presented 
his knuckle to the key, and received a strong 
spark. How exquisite must his sensations 
have been at this moment ! On this exper- 
iment depended the fate of his theory. If 
he succeeded, his name would rank hicth 
among those who had improved science ; if 
he failed, he must inevitably be subjected to 
the derision of mankind, or, what is worse, 
their pity, as a well meaning man, but a 
weak, silly projector. The anxiety with which 
he looked for the result of his experiment 
may be' easily conceived. Doubts and de- 
spair had begun to prevail, when the fact was 



168 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

ascertained in so clear a manner, that even 
the most incredulous could no longer with- 
hold their assent. Repeated sparks were 
drawn from the key, a phial was charged, a 
shock given, and all the experiments made 
which are usually performed with electricity. 
About a month before this period, some 
ingenious Frenchman had completed the dis- 
covery in the manner originally proposed by 
Dr. Franklin. The letters which he sent to 
Mr. Collinson, it is said, were refused a place 
in the Transactions of the Royal Society of 
London. However this may be, Collinson 
published them in a separate volume, under 
the title of " New Experiments and Observa- 
tions on Electricity made at Philadelphia, in 
America.'' They were read with avidity, and 
soon translated into different languages. A 
verry incorrect French translation fell into 
the hands of the celebrated Buffon, who, not- 
withstanding the disadvantages under which 
the work labored, was much pleased with it, 
and repeated the experiments with success. 
He prevailed on his friend, M. D*Alibard, to 
give his countrymen a more correct transla- 
tion of the works of the American electrician. 



LirE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 169 

This contributed much towards spreading a 
knowledge of Franklin's principles in France. 
The king, Louis XV., hearing of these exper- 
iments, expressed a wish to be a spectator of 
them. A course of experiments was given at 
the seat of the Due D'Ayen, at St. Germain, 
by M. de Lor. The applauses which the king 
bestowed upon Franklin excited in Buffon, 
D'Alibard, and De Lor, an earnest desire of 
ascertaining the truth of his theory of thun- 
der gust. Buffon erected his apparatus ol 
the tower of Montbar, M. D'Alibard at Ma- 
ry-la-ville, and De Lor at his house in the 
Estrapade at Paris, some of the highest 
ground in that capital. D'Alibard's ma- 
chine first showed signs of electricity. On 
the 10th of May, 1752, a thunder-cloud 
pased over it, in the absence of M. D'Ali- 
bard, and a number of sparks were drawn 
from it by Coiffier, a joiner, with whom D'Al- 
ibard had left directions how to proceed, and 
by M. Raulet, the prior of Mary-la- ville. An 
account of this experiment was given to the 
Royal Academy of Sciences, by M. D'Ali- 
bard, in a Memoir, dated May 13th, 1752. 
On the 18th of May, M. De Lor proved 

12 Franklin 



170 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

equally successful with the apparatus erected 
at his own house. These philosophers soon 
excited those of other parts of Europe to re- 
peat the experiment, amongst whom none 
signalized themselves more than Father Bec- 
caria, of Turin, to whose observations science 
is much indebted. Even the cold regions of 
Russia were penetrated by the ardor for dis- 
covery. Professor Richman bade fair to add 
much to the stock of knowledge on this sub- 
ject, when an unfortunate flash from his con- 
ductor put a period to his existence. The 
friends of science will long remember with re- 
gret the amiable martyr to electricity. 

By these experiments Franklin's theory 
was estabhshed in the most convincing man- 
ner. When the truth of it could no longer 
be doubted, envy and vanity endeavored to 
detract from its merit. That an American, 
an inhabitant of the obscure city of Philadel- 
phia, the name of which was hardly known, 
should be able to make discoveries, and to 
frame theories, which had escaped the notice 
of the enlightened philosophers of Europe, 
was too mortifying to be admitted. He must 
certainly have taken the idea from some one 



LIFE OP DR. FRANKLIN. 171 

else. , An American, a being of an inferior 
order, make discoveries I — Impossible. It 
was said, that the Abbe Nollet, 1748, had 
suggested the idea of the similarity of light- 
ning and electricity in his Legons de PJiy- 
sique. It is true that the Abbe mentions the 
idea, but he throws it out as a bare conjec- 
ture, and proposes no mode of ascertaining 
the truth of it. He himself acknowledges, that 
Franklin first entertained the bold thought 
of bringing lightning from the heavens, by 
means of pointed rods fixed in the air. The 
similarity of lightning and electricity is so 
strong, that we need not be surprised at no- 
tice being taken of it, as soon as electrical 
phenomena became familiar. We find it 
mentioned by Dr. Wall and Mr. Gray, while 
the science was in its infancy. But the 
honor of forming a regular theory of thun- 
der gusts, of suggesting a mode of determin- 
ing the truth of it by experiments, and of 
putting these experiments in practice, and 
thus establishing the theory, upon a firm 
and solid basis, is incontestably due to 
Franklin. D*Alibard, who made the first 
experiments in France, says, that he onlv 



172 LIFE OP DR. FRANKLIN. 

followed the track which Franklin had point- 
ed out. 

It has been of late asserted, that the honor 
of completing the experiment with the elec- 
trical kite does not belong to Franklin 
Some late English paragraphs have attributed 
it to some Frenchman, whose name they do 
not mention ; and the Abbe Bertholon rives 
it to M. de Romas, assessor to the presideal 
of Nirac : the English paragraphs probably 
refer to the same person. But a very slight 
attention will convince us of the injustice of 
this procedure; Dr. Franklin's experiment 
was made in June, 1752 ; and his letter giv- 
ing an account of it, is dated October 19, 
1752. M. de Romas made his first attempt 
on the 14th of May, 1753, but was not success- 
ful until the 7th of June; a year after 
Franklin had completed the discovery, and 
when it was known to all the philosophers in 
Europe. 

Besides these great principles, Franklin's 
letters on electricity contain a number of 
facts and hints, which have contributed great- 
ly towards reducing this branch of knowledge 
to a science. His friend, Mr. Kinnersley^ 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN 173 

communicated to him a discovery of the dif- 
ferent kinds of electricity, excited by rubbing 
glass and sulphur. This, we have said, was 
first observed by M. du Faye ; but it was for 
many years neglected. The philosophers 
were disposed to account for the phenomena, 
rather from a difference in the quantity of elec- 
tricity collected, and even Du Faye himself 
seems at last to have adopted this doctrine. 
Franklin at first entertained the same idea ; 
but, upon repeating the experiments, he per- 
ceived that Mr. Kinnersley was right ; and 
that the vitreous and resinous electricity of 
Du Faye were nothing more than the -positive 
and negative states which he had before ob- 
served ; and that the glass globe charged 
positively J or increased the quantity of elec- 
tricity on the prime conductor, while the 
globe of sulphur diminished its natural 
quantity, or charged negatively. These ex- 
periments and observations opened a new 
field for investigation, upon which electri- 
cians entered with avidity ; and their labors 
h.ive added much to the stock of our knowl- 
fuge. 

In September, 1752, Franklin entered upon 



174 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

a course of experiments, to determine the 
state of electricity in the clouds. From a 
number of experiments he formed this con- 
clusion : — " That the clouds of a thunder 
gust are most commonly in a negative state 
of electricity, but sometimes in a positive 
state ; and from this it follows, as a necessary 
consequence, " that for the most part, in thun- 
der, strokes, it is the earth that strikes into 
the clouds, and not the clouds that strike into 
the earth/* The letter containing these ob- 
servations is dated in September, 1753 ; and 
yet the discovery of ascending thunder has 
been said to be of a modern date, and has been 
attributed to the Abbe Bertholon, who pub- 
lished his memoir on the subject in 1776. 

Franklin's letters have been translated into 
most of the European languages, and into 
Latin. In proportion as they have become 
known, his principles have been adopted. 
Some opposition was made to his theories, 
particularly by the Abb6 Nollet, who was, 
however, but feebly supported, while the first 
philosophers in Europe stepped forth in de- 
fense of Fr.anklin's principles, amongst whom 
D'Alibard and Beccaria were the most dia- 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 176 

tinguished. The opposition has gradually 
ceased^ and the Franklinian system is now 
universally adopted, where science flourishes. 
The important practical use which Frank- 
lin made of his discoveries, the securing of 
houses from injury hy lightning, has been 
already mentioned. Pointed conductors are 
now very common in America ; but prejudice 
has hitherto prevented their general intro- 
duction into Europe, notwithstanding the 
most undoubted proofs of their utility have 
been given. But mankind can with difficulty 
be brought to lay aside established practices, 
or to adopt new ones. And perhaps we have 
more reason to be surprised that a practice, 
however rational, which was proposed about 
forty years ago, should in that time have been 
adopted in so many places, than that it has 
not universally prevailed. It is only by de- 
grees that the great body of mankind can be 
led into new practices, however salutary their 
tendency. It is now nearly eighty years 
since inoculation was introduced into Europe 
and America ; and it is so far from being 
general at present, that it will require one or 
two centuries to render it so. 



176 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

In the year 1745, Franklin published an 
account of his new invented Pennsylvania 
fireplaces, in which he minutely and accu- 
rately states the advantages of different kinds 
of fireplaces ; and endeavors to show, that 
the one which he describes is to be preferred 
to any other. This contrivance has given 
rise to the open stoves now in general use, 
which, however, differ from it in construction, 
particularly in not having an air-box at the 
back, through which a constant supply of air, 
warmed in its passage, is thrown into the 
room. The advantages of this air, that as a 
stream of warm air is continually flowing into 
the room, less fuel is necessary to preserve a 
proper temperature, and the room may be so 
tightened as that no air may enter through 
the cracks — the consequence of which are 
colds, toothaches, &:c. 

Although philosophy was a principal ob- 
ject of Franklin's pursuit for several years, 
he confined himself not to this. In the year 
1747, he became a member of the general 
assembly of Pennsylvania, as a burgess for 
the city of Philadelphia. Warm disputes 
subsisted at this time between the Assembly 



LIFE Of DR. FRANKLIxN. 177 

and the Proprietaries ; each contending for 
what'they conceived to be their just rights. 
Franklin, a friend to the rights of man from 
his infancy, soon distinguished himself a 
steady opponent of the unjust schemes of the 
proprietaries. He was soon looked up to as 
the head of the opposition ; and to him have 
been attributed many of the spirited replies 
of the Assembly to the messages of the gov- 
ernors. His influence in the body was very 
great. This arose not from any superior 
powers of eloquence ; he spoke but seldom, 
and he never was known to make any thing 
like an elaborate harangue. His speeches 
often consisted of a single sentence, of a well 
told story, the moral of which was obviously 
to the point. He never attempted the flow- 
ery fields of oratory. His manner was plain 
and mild. His style in speaking was, like 
that of his writings, simple, unadorned, and 
remarkably concise. With this plain manner, 
and his penetrating and solid judgment, he 
was able to confound the most eloquent and 
subtle of his adversaries, to confirm the opin- 
ions of his friends, and to make converts of 
the unprejudiced who had opposed him. With 



178 LIFE OF DR. FRANKIilN. 

a single observation, he has rendered of no 
avail an elegant and lengthy discourse, and de- 
termined the fate of a question of importance. 
But he was not contented with thus sup- 
porting the rights of the people. He wished 
to render them permanently secure, which 
can only be done by making their value prop- 
erly known ; and this must depend upon in- 
creasing and extending information to every 
class of men. AVe have already seen that he 
was the founder of the public library, which 
contributed greatly towards improving the 
minds of the citizens. But this was not suf- 
ficient. The schools then subsisting ^vere in 
general of little utility. The teachers were 
men ill qualified for the important duty which 
they had undertaken ; and, after all, nothing 
more could bo obtained than the rudiments 
of a common English education. Franklin 
drew up a plan of an academy, to be erected 
in the city of Philadelphia, suited to ''the 
state of an infant country;" but in this, as 
in all his plans, he confined not his views to 
the present time only. He looked forward 
to the period when an institution on an en- 
larged plan would become necessary. With 



LIFE OF DR FRANKLIN. 179 

this view, he considered his academy as a 
^' foundation for posterity to erect a seminary 
of learning more extensive, and suitable to 
future circumstances.'* In pursuance of this 
plan, the constitutions were drawn up and 
signed on the 13th of November, 1749. Ip 
these, twenty-four of the most respectable 
<;itizens of Philadelphia were named as trus- 
tees. In the choice of these, and in the 
formation of his plan, Franklin is said to 
have consulted chiefly with Thomas Hopkin- 
son, Esq., the Rev. Richard Peters, then sec- 
retary of the province, Tench Francis, Esq., 
attorney general, and Dr. Phineas Bond. 

The following article shows a spirit of be- 
nevolence worthy of imitation ; and for the 
honor of our city, we hope that it continues 
to be in force. 

" In case of the disability of the rector^ or 
any master (established on the foundation by 
receiving a certain salary) through sickness, 
or any other natural infirmity, whereby he 
may be reduced to poverty, the trustees shall 
have power to contribute to his support, in 
proportion to his distress and merit, and the 
stock in their hands." 



180 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

The last clause of the fundamental rule ia 
expressed in language so tender and benev- 
olent, so truly parental, that it will do ever- 
lasting honor to the hearts and heads of the 
founders. 

" It is hoped and expected that the trus- 
tees will make it their pleasure, and in some 
degree their business, to visit the academy 
often; to encourage and countenance the 
youth, to countenance and assist the masters, 
and, by all means in their power, advance the 
usefulness and reputation of the design ; that 
they will look on the students as, in some 
measure, their own children, treat them with 
familiarity and affection ; and, when they 
have behaved well, gone through their stud- 
ies and are to enter the world, they shall 
zealously unite, and make all the interest 
that can be made to promote and establish 
them, whether in business, offices, marriages, 
or any other thing for their advantage, in 
preference to all other persons whatsoever, 
even of equal merit.** 

The constitution being signed and made 
public, with the names of the gentlemen pro- 
posing themselves as trustees and founders, 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 18) 

the design was so well approved of by the 
public spirited citizens of Philadelphia, that 
the sum of eight hundred pounds per annum, 
for five years, was in the course of a few 
weeks subscribed for carrying it into execu- 
tion ; and in the beginning of January fol 
lowing (viz. 1750) three of the schools were 
opened, namely, the Latin and Greek schools, 
the Mathematical school, and the English 
school. In pursuance of an article in the 
original plan, a school for educating sixty 
boys and thirty girls (in the charter since 
called the Charitable School) was opened; 
and, amidst all the difficulties with which 
the trustees have struggled in respect to 
their funds, has still been continued full 
for the space of forty years ; so that allow- 
ing three years education for each boy and 
girl admitted into it, which is the general 
rule, at least twelve hundred children have 
received in it the chief part of their educa- 
tion, who might otherwise, in a great meas- 
ure, have been left without the means of in- 
struction. And many of those who have 
been thus educated, are now to be found 



182 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

among the most useful and reputable citizens 
of this state. 

This institution, thus successfully begun, 
continued daily to flourish, to the great sat- 
isfaction of Dr. Franklin ; who, notwithstand- 
ing the multiplicity of his other engagements 
and pursuits, at that busy stage of his life, 
was a constant attendant at the monthly vis- 
itations and examinations of the schools, and 
made it his particular study, by means of hi& 
extensive correspondence abroad, to advance 
the reputation of the seminary, and to draw 
students and scholars to it from dififerent 
parts of America and the West Indies. 
Through the interposition of his benevolent 
and learned friend, Peter Collinson, of Lon^ 
don, upon the application of the trustees, a 
charter of incorporation, dated July 18j 1753, 
was obtained from the honorable proprietors 
of Pennsylvania, Thomas Penn and Richard 
Penn, Esqrs., accompanied with a liberal ben- 
efaction of five hundred pounds sterling ; and 
Dr. Franklin now began in good earnest to 
please himself with the hopes of a speedy ac- 
complishment of his original design, viz., the 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 18£ 

establishment of a perfect institution, upon 
the plan of the European colleges and uni- 
versities ; for which his academy was in- 
tended as a nursery or foundation. To elu- 
cidate this fact, is a matter of considerablt 
importance in respect to the memory and 
character of Dr. Franklin as a philosopher^ 
and as the friend and patron of learning and 
science; for, notwithstanding what is ex- 
pressly declared by him in the preamble t(> 
the constitutions, viz., that the academy wa» 
begun for "teaching the Latin and Greek 
languages, with all useful branches of the 
arts and sciences, suitable to the state of an 
infant country, and laying a foundation for 
posterity to erect a seminary of learning 
more extensive, and suitable to their future 
circumstances ;*' yet it has been suggested 
of late, as upon Dr. Franklin'a authority, that 
the Latin and Greek, or the dead languages, 
are an incumbrance upon a scheme of liberal 
education, and that the engrafting or found- 
ing a college, or more extensive seminary, 
upon his academy, was without his approba- 
tion or agency, and gave him discontent. If 
the reverse of this does not already appeyr 



184 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

from what has been quoted above, the follow- 
ing letters will put the matter beyond dis- 
pute. They were written by him to a gen- 
tleman, who had at that time published the 
idea of a college, suited to the circumstances 
of a young country (meaning New York), a 
copy of which haying been sent to Dr. Frank- 
lin for his opinion, gave rise to that corres- 
pondence which terminated, about a year af- 
terwards, in erecting the college upon the 
foundation of the academy, and establishing 
that gentleman at the head of both, where he 
still continues, after a period of thirty-six 
years, to preside with distinguished reputa- 
tion. 

From these letters also, the state of the 
academy, at that time, will be seen. 

" Philadelphia, April 19, 1753. 
" Sir, 

" I received your favor of the 11th instant, 
with your new* niece on Education^ which I 
shall carefully peruse, and give you my sen- 
timents of it, as you desire, by next post. 

* A general idea of the college of Mirania. 



LIFE OF DB. FRANKLIN. 185 

" I believe the young gentlemen, your pu- 
pils, may be entertained and instructed here, 
in mathematics and philosophy, to satisfac- 
tion. Mr. Alison* (who was educated at 
Glasgow) has been long accustomed to teach 
the latter, and Mr. Grewf the former; and 
I think their pupils make great progress. 
Mr. Alison has the care of the Latin and 
Greek school, but as he has now three good 
assistantSjJ he can very well afford some 
hours every day for the instruction of those 
who are engaged in higher studies. The 
mathematical school is pretty well furnisiied 
with instruments. The English library is a 
good one; and we have belonging to it a 
middling apparatus for experimental philos- 
ophy, and propose speedily to complete it. 
The Loganian library, one of the best collec- 
tions in America, will shortly be opened ; so 
that neither books nor instruments will be 

* The Rev. and learned Mr. Francis Alison, after- 
wards D. D^, and vice-provost of the college. 

f Mr. Theophilus Grew, afterwards professor of math- 
ematics in the college. 

X Those assistants were at that time, Mr. Charles 
Thompson, late secretary of congress, Mr. Paul Jackson, 
and Mr. Jacob Duche. 



186 LIFE or D&. ERANKLirs. 

wanting ; and as we are determined always 
to give good salaries, we have reason to be- 
lieve we may have always an opportunity of 
choosing good masters ; upon which, indeed, 
the success of the whole depends. We are 
obliged to you for your kind offers in this re- 
spect, and when you are settled in England, 
we may occasionally make use of your friend- 
ship and judgment. 

" If it suits your convenience to visit Phil- 
adelphia before you return to Europe, I shall 
be extremely glad to see and converse with 
you here, as well as to correspond with you 
after your settlement in England ; for an ac- 
quaintance and communication with men of 
learning, virtue, and public spirit, is one of 
my greatest enjoyments. 

" I do not know whether you ever hap- 
pened to see the first proposals T inade for 
erecting this academy. I send rhem en- 
closed. They had (however imperfect) the 
desired success, being followed by a sub- 
scription of four thousand pounds, towards 
carrying them into execution. And as we 
are fond of receiving advice, and are daily 
improving by experience, I am in hopes 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 187 

we shall, in a few years, see a perfect insti- 
tution. 

" I am, very respectfully, &c. 

"B.FRANKLIN. 
" Mr. W. Smith, Long Island,'' 



^* Philadelphia, May 3, 1753. 

"Sir, 

" Mr. Peters has just now been with me, 
and we have compared notes on your new 
piece. We find nothing in the scheme of ed- 
ucation, however excellent, but what is, in 
our opinion, very practicable. The great 
difficulty will be to find the Aratus,* and 
other suitable persons, to carry it into ex- 
ecution; but such may be had if proper 
encouragement be given. We have both re- 
ceived great pleasure in the perusal of it. 
For my part, I know not when I have read 
a piece that has more afi'ected me — so noble 
and just are the sentiments, so warm and an- 

* The name given to the principal or head of the ideal 
college, the system of education in which hath neverthe- 
less been nearly realized, or followed as a model, in the 
college and academy of Philadelphia, and some other 
American seminaries, for many years past. 



L88 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

imated the language; yet as censure from 
your friends may be of more use, as well as 
more agreeable to you than praise, I ought to 
mention, that I wish you had omitted not only 
the quotation from the review,* which you 
are now justly dissatisfied with, but those ex- 
pressions of resentment against your adver- 
saries, in pages 65 and 79. In such cases, 
the noblest victory is obtained by neglect, 
and by shining on. 

"Mr. Allen has been out of town these 
ten days ; but before he went he directed me 
to procure him six copies of your piece. Mr. 
Peters has taken ten. He proposed to have 
written to you ; but omits it, as he expects so 
soon to have the pleasure of seeing you here. 
He desires me to present his affectionate 
compliments to you, and to assure you, that 
you will be very welcome to him. I shall 
only say, that you may depend on my doing 
all in my power to make your visit to Phila- 
delphia agreeable to you. 

"I am, &c., 
" Mr. Smith. " B. FRANKLIN." 

♦ The quotation alluded to (from the London Monthly 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 189 

Philadelphia, Nov. 21 , 1753. 

"Dear Sir, 

" Having written you fully, via Bristol, I 
have now little to add. Matters relating to 
the academy remain in Btatu quo. The trus- 
tees would be glad to see a rector established 
there, but they dread entering into new en- 
gagements till they are got out of debt ; and 
I have not yet got them wholly over to my 
opinion, that a good professor, or teacher of 
t!ie higher branches of learning, would draw 
so many scholars as to pay great part, if not 
the whole, of his salary. Thus, unless the 
proprietors (of the province) shall think fit to 
put the finishing hand to our institution, it 
must, I fear, wait some few years longer be- 
fore it can arrive at that state of perfection, 
which to me it seems now capable of; and all 
the pleasure I promised myself in seeing you 
settled among us, vanishes into smoke. 

"But good Mr. Collinson writes me word, 
that no endeavors of his shall be wanting ; 
and he hopes with the archbishop's assistance, 

Review for 1749,) was judged to reflect too severely ou 
the discipline and government of the English universities 
of Oxford and Cambridge, and was expunged from the 
following editions of this work. 



190 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

to be able to prevail with our proprietors.* 
I pray God grant them success.. 

^' My son presents his affectionate regards, 
with 

"Dear Sir, yours, &c., 

"B. FRANKLIN. 

" P. S. I have not been favored with a 
line from you since your arrival in England/* 



Philadelphia J April 18, 1754. 

"Dear Sir, 

" I have had but one letter from you since 
your arrival in England, which was but a 
short one, via Boston, dated October 18th, 
acquainting me that yoti had written largely 
by Captain Davis. — Davis was lost, and with 
him your letters, to my great disappointment. 
Mesnard and Gibbon have since arrived here, 
and I hear nothing from you. My comfort 
is, an imagination that you only omit writing 
because you are coming, and propose to tell 

* Upon the application of Archbishop Herring and P. 
Collinson, Esq., at Dr. Franklin's request (aided by the 
letters of Mr. Allen and Mr. Peters,) the Hon. Thomas 
Penn, Esq., subscribed an annual sum, and afterward 3 
gave at least 5,000^. to the founding or engrafting: the 
college upon the academy. 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 191 

me every thing viva voce. So not knowing 
whether this letter will reach you, and hoping 
either to see or hear from you by the Myr- 
tilla, Captain Budden's ship, which is daily 
expected, I only add, that I am, with great 
esteem and affection, 

"Yours, &c. 
" Mr, Smith. " B. FRANKLIN." 



About a month after the date of this last 
letter, the gentleman to whom it was ad 
dressed arrived in Philadelphia, and was im- 
mediately placed at the head of the seminary ; 
whereby Dr. Franklin and the other trustees 
were enabled to proHccute their plan, for per- 
fecting the institution, and opening the col- 
lege upon the large and liberal foundation on 
which it now stands ; for which purpose they 
obtained their additional charter, dated May 
27th, 1755. 

Thus far we thought it proper to exhibit in 
one view Dr. Franklin's services in the foun- 
dation and establishment of this seminary. 
He soon afterwards embarked for England, in 
the public service of his country ; a" d having 



192 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

been generally employed abroad, in the like 
service, for the greatest part of the remainder 
of his life (as will appear in our subsequent 
account of the same) he had but few opportu- 
nities of taking any further active part in the 
aflFairs of the seminary, until his final return 
in the year 1785, when he found its charters 
violated, and his ancient colleagues, the origi- 
nal founders, deprived of their trust, by an 
act of the legislature ; and although his own 
name had been inserted amongst the new 
trustees, yet he declined to take his seat 
among them, or any concern in the manage- 
ment of their affairs, till the institution was 
restored by law to its original owners. He 
then assembled his old colleagues at his own 
house, and being chosen their president, all 
their future meetings were, at his request, 
held there, till within a few months of his 
death, when with reluctance, and at their de- 
sire, lest he might be too much injured by his 
attention to their business, he suffered them 
to meet at the college. 

Franklin not only gave birth to many use- 
ful institutions himself, but he was also in- 
struQiental in promoting those which had 



LIFE OP DR. FRANKLIN. 193 

oriofinated with other men. About the year 
1752, an eminent physician of this city, Dr. 
Bond, considering the deplorable state of the 
poor, when visited with disease, conceived the 
idea of establishing an hospital. Notwith- 
standing very great exertions on his part, he 
was able to interest few people so far in 
his benevolent plan, as to obtain subscriptions 
from them. Unwilling that his scheme should 
prove abortive, he sought the aid of Frank- 
lin, who readily engaged in the business, both 
by using his influence with his friends, and by 
stating the advantageous influence of the pro- 
posed institution in his paper. These efforts 
were attended with success. Consid2rable 
sums were subscribed ; but they were still 
short of what was necessary. FrankUn now 
made another exertion. He applied to the 
Assembly; and, after some opposition, ob- 
tained leave to bring in a bill, specifying, 
that as soon as two thousand pounds were 
subscribed, the same sum should be drawn 
from the treasury by the speaker's warrant, to 
be applied to the purposes of the institution. 
The opposition, as the sum was granted upon 
y contingency, wnich they supposed would 

13 Franklin 



194 LIFE OF DE. fUANKLiV 

never take place, were silent, and the bill 
passed. The friends of the plan now re- 
doubled their efforts, to obtain subscriptions to 
the amount stated in the bill, and were soon 
successful. This was the foundation of the 
Pennsylvania Hospital, which with the Bet- 
tering House and Dispensary, bears ample 
testimony of the humanity of the citizens of 
Philadelphia. 

Dr. Franklin had conducted himself so well 
in the office of postmaster, and had shown 
himself to be so well acquainted with the busi- 
ness of that department, that it was thought 
expedient to raise him to a more dignified 
station. In 1753 he was appointed deputy 
postmaster general for the British colonies. 
The profits arising from the postage of let- 
ters formed no inconsiderable part of the rev- 
enue, which the crown of Great Britain de- 
rived from these colonies. In the hands of 
Franklin, it is said, that the post-office in 
America yielded annually thrice as much as 
that of Ireland. 

The American colonies were much exposed 
to depredations on their frontiers by the In- 
dians; and, more particuhirly, whenever a 



LIFE OP DR. FRANKLIN. 195 

war took place between France and England. 
The colonies, individually, were either too 
weak to take efficient measures for their own 
defense, or they were unwilling to take upon 
themselves the whole burden of erecting forts 
and maintaining garrisons, whilst their neigh- 
bors, who partook equally with themselves of 
the advantages, contributed nothing to the 
expense. Sometimes also the disputes, which 
subsisted between the governors and assem- 
blies, prevented the adoption of means of de- 
fense ; as we have seen was the case in Penn- 
sylvania in 1745. To devise a plan of union 
between the colonies, to regulate this and 
other matters, appeared a desirable object. 
To accomplish this, in the year 1754, com- 
missioners from New Hampshire, Massachu- 
setts, Rhode Island, New Jersey, Pennsyl- 
vania, and Maryland, met at Albany. Dr. 
Franklin attended here, as a ci^mmissioner 
from Pennsylvania, and produced a plan, 
which, from the place of meeting, has been 
usually termed, " The Albany Plan of Union." 
This proposed, that application should be 
made for an act of parliament, to establish in 
the colonies a general government, to be ad- 



196 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

ministered by a president general, appointed 
by the crown, and by a grand council, con- 
sisting of members, chosen by the represent- 
atives of the diflferent colonies ; their number 
to be in direct proportion to the sums paid by 
each colony into the general treasury, with 
this restriction, that no colony should have 
more than seven, nor less than two represent- 
atives. The whole executive authority was 
committed to the president general. The 
power of legislation was lodged in the grand 
council and president general, jointly; his 
consent being made necessary to passing a 
bill into a law. The power vested in the 
president and council was, to declare war and 
peace, and to conclude treaties with the In- 
dian nations ; to regulate trade with, and to 
make purchases of vacant lands from them, 
either in the name of the crown, or of the 
union ; to settle new colonies, to make laws 
for governing these, until they should be 
erected into separate governments; and to 
raise troops, build forts, and fit out armed 
vessels, and to use other means for the gen- 
eral defense ; and, to efi*ect these things, a 
power was given to make laws, laying bUcL 



LIFE OF DR. FRAMKLIN. 197 

duties, imposts, or taxes, as they shouiu find 
necessary, and as would be least burdensome 
to the people. All laws were to be sent to 
England for the king's approbation ; and, 
unless disapproved of within three years, were 
to remain in force. All officers of the land 
or sea service were to be nominated by the 
president general, and approved of by the gen- 
eral council ; civil officers were to be nomi- 
nated by the council, and approved of by the 
president. Such are the outlines of the plan 
proposed, for the consideration of the con- 
gress, by Dr. Franklin. After several days 
discussion, it was unanimously agreed to by 
the commissioners, a copy transmitted to each 
assembly, and one to the king's council. The 
fate of it was singular. It was disapproved 
of by the ministry of Great Britain, because 
it gave too much power to the representatives 
of the people ; and it was rejected by exeyj 
assembly, as giving to the president general, 
the representative of the crown, an influence 
greater than appeared to them proper, in a 
plan of government intended for freemen. 
Perhaps this rejection, on both sides, is the 
strongest proof that could be adduced of the 



198 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

excellence of it, as suited to the situation of 
America and Great Britain at that time. It 
appears to have steered exactly in the middle, 
between the opposite interests of both. 

Whether the adoption of this plan would 
have prevented the separation of America 
from Great Britain is a question which might 
afford much room for speculation. It may 
be said, that, by enabling the colonies to de- 
fend themselves, it would have removed the 
pretext upon which the stamp act, tea act, 
and other acts of the British parliament were 
passed ; which excited a spirit of opposition, 
and laid the foundation for the separation of 
the two countries. But, on the other hand, 
it must be admitted, that the restriction laid 
by Great Britain upon our commerce, oblig- 
ing us to sell our produce to her citizens only, 
and to take from them various articles, of 
which, as our manufacturers were discour- 
aged, we stood in need, at a price greater 
than that for which they could have been ob- 
tained from other nations, must inevitably 
produce dissatisfaction, even though no du- 
ties were imposed by the parliament ; a cir- 
cumstance irhich mip^bt still have taken place. 



LIFE OF L»R. FRANKLIN. 199 

Besides, as the president general was to be 
appointed by the crown, he must, of neces- 
sity, be devoted to its views, and would, 
therefore, refuse to assent to any laws, how- 
ever salutary to the community, which had 
the most remote tendency to injure the inter- 
ests of his sovereign. Even should they re- 
ceive his assent, the approbation of the king 
was to be necessary ; who would indubitably, 
in every instance, prefer the advantage of 
his own dominions to that of his colonies. 
Hence would ensue perpetual disagreements 
between the council and the president gen- 
eral, and thus between the people of America 
and the crown of Great Britain : while the 
colonies continued weak, they would be 
obliged to submit, and as soon as they ac- 
quired strength, they would become more ur- 
gent in their demands, until, at length, they 
would shake off the yoke, and declare them- 
selves independent. 

Whilst the French were in possession of 
Canada, their trade with the natives extended 
very far ; even to the back of the British set- ' 
tlements. They were disposed, from time to 
time, to establish posts within the territory. 



200 LIFE OP DR. FRANKLIN. 

vvhicli the English claimed as their own. In- 
dependent of the injury to the fur trade, 
which was considerable, the colonies suffered 
this further inconvenience, that the Indians 
were frequently instigated to commit depre- 
dations on their frontiers. In the year 1753, 
encroachments were made upon the bound- 
aries of Virginia. Remonstrances had no 
effect. In the ensuing year, a body of men 
was sent out under the command of Mr. 
Washington, who, though a very young man, 
had, by his conduct in the preceding year, 
shown himself worthy of such an important 
trust. Whilst marching to take possession 
of the post at the junction of the Alleghany 
and Monongahela, he was informed that the 
French had already erected a fort there. A 
detachment of their men marched against 
him. He fortified himself as strongly as 
time and circumstances would admit. A su- 
periority of numbers soon obliged him to sur- 
render Fort Necessity. He obtained honor- 
able terms for himself and men, and returned 
to Virginia. The government of Great Bri- 
tain now thought it necessary to interfere. 
In the year 1755, General Braddock, with 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 201 

some -regiments of regular troops and pro- 
vincial levies, was sent to dispossess the 
French of the posts upon which they had 
seized. After the men were all ready, a dif- 
ficulty occurred, which had nearly prevented 
the expedition. This was the want of wagons. 
Franklin now stepped forward, and with the 
assistance of his son, in a little time procured 
a hundred and fifty. Braddock unfortunate- 
ly fell into an ambuscade, and perished, with 
a number of his men. Washington, who had 
accompanied him as an aid-de-camp, and had 
warned him, in vain, of his danger, now dis- 
played great military talents in efiecting a 
retreat of the remains of the army, and in 
forming a junction with the rear, under Col- 
onel Dunbar, upon whom the chief command 
now devolved. With some difficulty they 
brought their little body to a place of safety, 
but they found it necessary to destroy their 
wagons and baggage, to prevent them from 
falling into the hands of the enemy. For 
the wagons, which he had furnished, Franklin, 
had given bonds to a large amount. The 
owners declared their intention of obliging 
him to make a restitution of their property. 

14 Franklin 



202 LIFE OP DR. FRANKLIN. 

Had they put their threats in execution, ruin 
must inevitably have been the consequence. 
Governor Shirley, finding that he had incur 
red those debts for the service of government, 
made arrangements to have them discharged, 
and released Franklin from his disagreeable 
situation. 

The alarm spread through the colonies, 
after the defeat of Braddock, was very great. 
Preparations to arm were every where made. 
In Pennsylvania, the prevalence of the quak- 
er interest prevented the adoption of any 
system of defense, which would compel the 
citizens to bear arms. Franklin introduced 
into the Assembly a bill for organizing a mili- 
tia, by which every man was allowed to take 
arms or not, as to him should appear fit. 
The quakers, being thus left at liberty, suf- 
fered the bill to pass ; for although their prin- 
ciples would not sufi'er them to fight, they had 
no objection to their neighbors fighting for 
them. In consequence of this act a very re- 
spectable militia was formed. The sense of 
impending danger infused a military spirit in 
all, whose religious tenets were not opposed 
to war. Franklin was appointed colonel '"fa 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 203 

regiment in Philadelphia, which consisted of 
3200 men. 

The north-western frontier being invaded 
by the enemy, it became necessary to adopt 
measures for its defense. Franklin was di- 
rected by the Governor to take charge of tliir^. 
A power of raising men, and of appoiuting 
officers to command them was vested in him. 
He soon levied a body of troops, with which 
he repaired to the place at which their pres- 
ence was necessary. Here he built a fort, 
and placed the garrison in such a posture of 
defense, as would enable them to withstand 
the inroads, to which the inhabitants had been 
previously exposed. He remained here for 
some time, in order the more completely to 
discharge the trust committed to him. Some 
business of importance at length rendered his 
presence necessary in the Assembly, and he 
returned to Philadelphia. 

The defense of her colonies was a great 
expense to Great Britain. The most effectual 
'iQode of lessening this was, to put arms into 
the hands of the inhabitants, and to teach 
them their use. But England wished not that 
the Americans should become acquainted with 



204 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

their own strength. She was apprehensive, 
that, as soon as this period arrived, they 
would no longer submit to that monopoly of 
their trade, which to them was highly inju- 
rious, but extremely advantageous to the 
mother country. In comparison with the 
profits of this, the expense of maintaining 
armies and fleets to defend them was trifling. 
She fought to keep them dependent upon her 
for protection ; the best plan which could be 
devised for retaining them in peaceable sub- 
jection. The least appearance of a military 
spirit was therefore to be guarded against ; 
and, although a war then raged, the act of 
organizing a militia was disapproved of by 
the ministry. The regiments which had been 
formed under it were disbanded, and the de- 
fense of the province was entrusted to reg- 
ular troops. 

The disputes between the proprietaries and 
the people continued in full force, although a 
war was raging on the frontiers. Not even 
the sense of danger was sufficient to reconcile, 
for ever so short a time, their jarring inter- 
ests. The Assembly still insisted upon the 
justice of taxing the proprietary estates, but 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 205 

^I^H governors constantly refused their assent 
: thiJB measure, without which no bill could 
;' iss into a law. Enraged at the obstinacy, 
:n>d what they conceived to be unjust pro- 
ceedings of their opponents, the Assembly at 
length determined to apply to the mother 
country for relief. A petition was addressed 
to the king^ in council, stating the inconve- 
niences under which the inhabitants labored 
from the attention of the proprietaries to 
ther private interests, to the neglect of the 
general welfare of the community, and pray- 
ing for redress. Franklin was appointed to 
present this address, as agent for the province 
of Pennsylvania, and departed from America, 
in June, 1757. In conformity to the instruc- 
tions which he had received from the legisla- 
ture, he held a conference with the proprieta- 
ries who then resided in England, and en- 
deavored to prevail upon them to give up the 
long contested point. Finding that they 
would hearken to no terms of accommodation, 
he laid his petition before the council. Dur- 
ing this time Governor Denny assented to a 
law imposing ^ tax, in which no discrimina- 
tion was made in favor of the estates of the 



206 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

Penn family. They, alarmed at this intelli- 
gence, and Franklin's exertions, used their 
utmost endeavors to prevent the royal sanc- 
tion being given to this law, which they rep- 
resented as highly iniquitous, designed to 
throw the burden of supporting government 
upon them, and calculated to produce the 
most ruinous consequences to them and their 
posterity. The cause was amply discussed 
before the privy council. The Penns found 
here some strenuous advocates ; nor were 
there wanting some who warmly espoused the 
side of the people. After some time spent in 
debate, a proposal was made, that Franklin 
should solemnly engage, that the assessment 
of the tax should be so made, as that the pro- 
prietary estates should pay no more than a 
due proportion. This he agreed to perform, 
the Penn family withdrew their opposition, 
and tranquillity was thus once more restored 
to the province. 

The mode in which this dispute was termin- 
ated is a striking proof of the high opinion 
entertained of Franklin's integrity and honor, 
even by those who considered him as inimical 
in their views. Nor was their confidence ill 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 207 

founded. The assessment was made upon 

A. 

the strictest principle of equity; and the 
proprietary estates bore only a proportion- 
able share of the expenses of supporting gov- 
ernment. 

After the completion of this important 
business, Franklin remained at the court of 
Great Britain, as agent for the province 
of Pennsylvania. The extensive knowledge 
which he possessed of the situation of the col- 
onies, and the regard which he always man- 
ifested for their interests, occasioned his ap- 
pointment to the same office by the colonies 
of Massachusetts, Maryland, and Georgia. 
His conduct in this situation was such as 
rendered him still more dear to his country- 
men. 

He had now an opportunity of indulging 
in the society of those friends, whom his 
merits had procured him while at a distance. 
The regard which they had entertained for 
him was rather increased by a personal ac- 
quaintance. The opposition which had been 
made to his discoveries in philosophy gradu- 
ally ceased, and the rewards of literary merit 
were abundantly conferred upon him. The 



208 LIFE OF DR, FRANKLIN. 

Royal Society of London, which had at first 
refused his performances admission into its 
transactions, now thought it an honor to rank 
him amongst its fellows. Other societies of 
Europe were equally ambitious of calling him 
a member. The university of St. Andrew's, 
in Scotland, conferred upon him the degree 
of Doctor of Laws. Its example was followed 
by the universities of Edinburgh and Oxford. 
His correspondence was sought for by the 
most eminent philosophers of Europe. His 
letters to these abound with true science, de- 
livered in the most simple unadorned manner. 
The province of Canada was at this time in 
the possession of the French, who had orig- 
inally settled it. The trade with the In- 
dians, for which its situation was very con- 
venient, was exceedingly lucrative. The 
French traders here found a market for their 
commodities, and received in return large 
quantities of rich furs, which they disposed 
of at a high price in Europe. Whilst the 
possession of this country was highly advan- 
tageous to France, it was a grievous incon- 
venience to the inhabitants of the British 
colonies. The Indians were almost generally 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 209 

desirous to cultivate the friendship of the 
French, by whom they were abundantly sup- 
plied with arms and ammunition. "^Tienever 
a war happened, the Indians were ready to 
fall upon the frontiers: and this they fre- 
quently did, even when Great Britain and 
France were at peace. From these consid- 
erations, it appeared to be the interest of 
Great Britain to gain the possession of Can- 
ada. But the importance of such an acqui-^ 
sition was not well understood in England. 
Franklin about this time published his Can- 
ada pamphlet, in which he, in a very forcible 
manner, pointed out the advantages which 
would result from the conquest of this prov- 
ince. 

An expedition against it was planned, and 
the command given to General Wolfe. His 
success is well known. At the treaty in 
1762, France ceded Canada to Great Britain, 
and by her cession of Louisiana, at the same 
time, relinquished all her possessions on the- 
continent of America. 

Although Dr. Franklin was now princi- 
pally occupied with political pursuits, he 
found time for philosophical studiV?, He ex- 



210 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

tendecl liis electrical researches, and niade e* 
variety of experiments, particularly on the 
tourmalin. The singular properties which 
this stone possesses, of being electrified on 
one side positively, and on the other nega- 
tively, by heat alone, ^vith()ut friction, had 
been but lately observed. 

Some experiments on the cold produced by 
evaporation, made by Dr. Cullen, had been 
communicated to Dr. Franklin, by Professor 
Simpson, of Glasgow. These he repeated, and 
found, that, by the evaporation of ether in the 
exhausted receiver of an air pump, so great a 
degree of cold was produced in a summer*s 
day, that water was converted into ice. This 
discovery he applied to the solution of a num- 
ber of phenomena, particularly a singular 
fact, which philosophers had endeavored in 
vain to account for, viz., that the temperature 
of the human body, when in health, never ex- 
ceeds ninety-six degrees of Farenheit's ther- 
mometer, although the atmosphere which sur- 
rounds it may be heated to a much greater 
degree. This he attributed to the increased 
perspiration, and consequent evaporation, 
produced by the heat. 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 211 

In a letter to Mr. Small, of London, dated 
in May, 1760, Dr. Franklin makes a number 
of observations, tending to show that, in 
North America, north-east storms begin in 
the south-west parts. It appears, from ac- 
tual observations, that a north-east storm, 
which extended a considerable distance, com- 
menced at Philadelphia nearly four hours be- 
fore it was felt at Boston. He endeavored 
to account for this, by supposing that, from 
heat, some rarefaction takes place about the 
gulf of Mexico, that the air further north be- 
ing cooler rushes in, and is succeeded by the 
cooler and denser air still farther north, and 
that thus a continued current is at length 
produced. 

The tone produced by rubbing the brim of 
a drinking glass with a wet finger had been 
generally known. A Mr. Puckeridge, an 
Irishman, by placing on a table a number of 
glasses of different sizes, and tuning them by 
partly filling them with water, endeavored to 
form an instrument capable of playing tunes. 
He was prevented, by an untimely end, from 
bringing his invention to any degree of per- 
fection. After his death some improvements 



212 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

were made upon his plan. The sweetness of 
the tones induced Dr. Franklin to make a 
variety of experiments ; and he at length 
formed that elegant instrument, which he has 
called the Armonica. 

In the summer of 1762, he returned to 
America. On his passage he observed the 
singular effect produced by the agitation of a 
vessel, containing oil floating on water. The 
surface of the oil remains smooth and undis- 
turbed, whilst the water is agitated with the 
utmost commotion. No satisfactory explana- 
tion of this appearance has, we believe, ever 
been given. 

Dr. Franklin received the thanks of the 
Assembly of Pennsylvania, " as well for the 
faithful discharge of his duty to that prov- 
ince in particular, as for the many and im- 
portant services done to America in general, 
during his residence in Great Britain.*' A 
compensation of 5,000Z., Pennsylvania cur- 
rency, was also decreed him for his services 
during six years. 

During his absence he had been annually 
elected member of the Assembly. On his re- 
turn to Pennsylvania he again took his seat 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 213 

in this body, and continued a steady defender 
of the liberties of the people. 

In December, 1762, a circumstance which 
caused great alarm in the pro^ce took place. 
A number of Indians had resided in the 
county of Lancaster, and conducted them- 
selves uniformly as friends to the white in- 
habitants. Repeated depredations on the 
frontiers had exasperated the inhabitants to 
such a degree, that they determined on re- 
venge upon every Indian. A number of per- 
sons, to the amount of about one hundred and 
twenty, principally inhabitants of Donegal 
and Peckstang or Paxton townships, in the 
county of York, assembled ; and, mounted on 
horseback, proceeded to the settlement of 
these harmless and defenseless Indians, whose 
number had now been reduced to about 
twenty. The Indians received intelligence 
of the attack which was intended against 
them, but disbelieved it. Considering the 
white people as their friends, they appre- 
hended no danger from them. When the 
party arrived at the Indian settlement, they 
found only some women and children, and a 
few old men, the rest being absent at work. 



211: LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

They murdered all whom they found, and 
amongst others the chief Shaheas, who had 
been always distinguished for his friendship 
to the whites. This bloody deed excited 
much indignation in the well disposed part of 
the community. 

The remainder of these unfortunate Indi- 
ans, who, by absence, had escaped the mas- 
sacre, were conducted to Lancaster, and 
lodged in the jail as a place of security. 
The governor issued a proclamation, express- 
ing the strongest disapprobation of the ac- 
tion, offering a reward for the discovery of 
the perpetrators of the deed, and prohibiting 
all injuries to the peaceable Indians in future. 
But, notwithstanding this, a party of the 
same men shortly after marched to Lan- 
caster, broke open the jail, and inhumanly 
butchered the innocent Indians who had been 
placed there for security. Another procla- 
mation was issued, but it had no effect. A 
detachment marched down to Philadelphia, 
for the express purpose of murdering some 
friendly Indians, who had been removed to 
the city for safety. A number of the citizens 
armed in their defense. The quakers, whose 



LIFE OP DE. FRANKLIN. 215 

principles are opposed to fighting even in 
their own defense, were most active upon this 
occasion. The rioters came to Germantown. 
The governor fled for safety to the house of 
Dr. Franklin, who, with some others, ad- 
vanced to meet the Paxton boys, as they were 
called, and had influence enough to prevail 
upon them to relinquish their undertaking, 
and return to their homes. 

The disputes between the proprietaries and 
the Assembly, which, for a time had subsided, 
were again revived. The proprietaries were 
dissatisfied with the concessions made in favor 
of the people, and made great struggles to 
recover the privilege of exempting their es- 
tates from taxation, which they had been in- 
duced to give up. 

In 1763, the Assemby passed a militia 
bill, to which the governor refused to give 
his assent, unless the Assembly would agree 
to certain amendments which he proposed. 
These consisted in increasing the fines ; and, 
in some cases substituting death for fines. 
He wished too, that the officers should be ap- 
pointed altogether by himself, and not be 
nominated by the people, as the bill had pro- 



"216 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

posed. These amendments the Assembly con- 
sidered as inconsistent with the spirit of lib- 
erty. They would not adopt them ; the gov- 
ernor was obstinate, and the bill was lost. 

These, and various other circumstances, in- 
creased the uneasiness which subsisted be- 
tween the proprietaries and the Assembly, 
to such a degree that in 1764, a petition to 
the king was agreed to by the house, praying 
an alteration from a proprietary to a regal 
government. Great opposition was made to 
this measure, not only in the house, but in 
the public prints. A speech of Mr. Dicken- 
son, on the subject, was published, with a pre- 
face by Dr. Smith, in which great pains were 
taken to show the impropriety and impolicy 
of this proceeding. A spe?ch of Mr. Gallo- 
way, in reply to Mr. Dickenson, was publish- 
ed, accompanied with a preface by Dr. Frank- 
lin ; in which he ably opposed the principles 
laid down in the preface to Mr. Dickenson's 
speech. This application to the throne pro- 
duced no effect. The proprietary government 
was still continued. 

At the election for a new assembly, in the 
fall of 1764, the friends of the proprietaries 



LIFE CP DR. FRANKLIN. 217 

made great exertions to exclude those of the 
adverse party ; and they obtained a small 
majority in the city of Philadelphia. Frank- 
lin now lost his seat in the house, which he 
had held for fourteen years. On the meeting 
of the Assembly, it appeared that there was 
still a decided majority of Franklin's friends. 
He was immediately appointed provincial 
agent, to the great chagrin of his enemies, 
who made a solemn protest against his ap- 
pointment ; which was refused admission upon 
the minutes, as being unprecedented. It -vvas, 
however, published in the papers, and [»ro- 
duced a spirited reply from him, just btlbre 
his departure for England. 

The disturbances produced in America by 
Mr. Grenville's stamp act, and the opposition 
made to it, are well known. Under the Mar- 
quis of Rockingham's administration, it ap- 
peared expedient to endeavor to calm the 
minds of the colonists ; and the repeal of the 
odious tax was contemplated. Amongst other 
means of collecting information on the dispo- 
sition of the people to submit to it, Dr. 
Franklin was called to the bar of the House 
of Commons. The examination which he 



218 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

here underwent was published, and contains 
a striking proof of the extent and accuracy 
of his information, and the facility with which 
he communicated his sentiments. He repre- 
sented facts in so strong a point of view, that 
the inexpediency of the act must have appear- 
ed clear to every unprejudiced mind. The 
act, after some opposition, was repealed, 
about a year after it was enacted, and before 
it had ever been carried into execution. 

In the year 1766, he made a visit to Hol- 
land and Germany, and received the greatest 
marks of attention from men of science. In 
his passage through Holland, he learned from 
the watermen the effect which a diminution of 
the quantity of water in canals has in im- 
peding the progress of boats. Upon his re- 
turn to England, he was led to make a num- 
ber of experiments, all of which tended to 
confirm the observation. These, vhh an ex- 
planation of the phenomenon, he communi- 
cated in a letter to his friend. Sir John Prin- 
gle, which is among his philosophical pieces. 

In the following year he traveled into 
France, where he met with a no less favora- 
ble reception than he had experienced in Ger 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 219 

many. He was introduced to a number of lit- 
erary characters, and to the King, Louis XV. 
Several letters written by Hutchinson, Oli- 
ver, and others, to persons in eminent stations 
in Great Britain, came into the hands of Dr. 
Franklin. These contained the most violent 
invectives against the leading characters of 
the state of Massachusetts, and strenuously 
advised the prosecution of vigorous measures, 
to compel the people to obedience to the 
measures of the ministry. These he trans- 
mitted to the legislature, by whom they were 
published. Attested copies of them were sent 
to Great Britain, with an address, praying 
the king to discharge from office persons who 
had rendered themselves so obnoxious to the 
people, and who had shown themselves so un- 
friendly to their interests. The publication 
of these letters produced a duel between Mr. 
Whately and Mr. Temple ; each of whom was 
suspected of having been instrumental in pro- 
curing them. To prevent any further disputes 
on this subject. Dr. Franklin, in one of the 
public papers, declared that he had sent them 
to America, but would give no information 



220 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

concerning the manner in which he had ob- 
tained them ; nor was this ever discovered. 

Shortly after, the petition of the Massa- 
chusetts assembly was taken up for examina- 
tion, before the privy council. Dr. Franklin 
attended as agent for the assembly , and here 
a torrent of the most violent and unwarranted 
abuse was poured upon him by the solicitor 
general, Wedderburne, who was ens^aged as 
counsel for Oliver and Hutchinson. The peti- 
tion was declared to be scandalous and vexa- 
tious, and the prayer of it refused. 

Although the parliament of Great Britain 
had repealed the stamp act, it was only upon 
the principle of expediency. They still in- 
sisted upon their right to tax the colonies ; 
and, at the same time that the stamp act was 
repealed, an act was passed, declaring the 
right of parliament to bind the colonies in all 
cases whatsoever. This language was used 
even by the most strenuous opposers of the 
stamp act ; and, amongst others, by Mr. Pitt. 
This right was never recognized by the col- 
onists ; but, as they flattered themselves that 
it would not be exercised, they were not very 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 221 

active in remonstrating against it. Had this 
pretended right been suffered to remain dor- 
mant, the colonists would cheerfully have 
furnished their quota of supplies, in the mode 
to which they had been accustomed ; that is, 
by acts of their own assemblies, in conse- 
quence of requisitions from the Secretary of 
State. If this practice had been pursued, 
such was the disposition of the colonies to- 
wards their mother country, that, notwith- 
standing the disadvantages under which they 
labored, from restraints upon their trade, cal- 
culated solely for the benefit of the commer- 
cial and manufacturing interests of Great 
Britain, a separation of the two countries 
might have been a far distant event. The 
Americans, from their earliest infancy, were 
taught to venerate a people from whom they 
were descended ; whose language, laws, and 
manners were the same as their own. Thev 
looked up to them as models of perfection ; 
and, in their prejudiced minds, the most en- 
lightened nations of Europe were considered 
as almost barbarians, in comparison with 
Englishmen. The name of an Englishman 
conveyed to an American the idea of every 



222 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

thing good and great. Such sentiments in- 
stilled into them in early life, what but a re- 
petition of unjust treatment could have in- 
duced them to entertain the most distant 
thought of separation ! The duties on glass, 
paper, leather, painters' colors, tea, &c., the 
disfranchisement of some of the colonies; 
the obstruction to the measures of the legis- 
lature in others, by the king's governors; 
the contemptuous treatment of their humble 
remonstrances, stating their grievances, and 
praying a redress of them, and other vi- 
olent and oppressive measures, at length 
excited an ardent spirit of opposition. In- 
stead of endeavoring to allay this by a more 
lenient conduct, the ministry seemed reso- 
lutely bent upon reducing the colonies to the 
most slavish obedience to their decrees. But 
this only tended to aggravate. Vain were 
all the efforts made use of to prevail upon 
them to lay aside their designs, to convince 
them of the impossibility of carrying them 
into effect, and of the mischievous conse- 
quences which must ensue from a continuance 
of the attempt. They persevered with a de- 
gree of inflexibility scarcely paralleled. 



LIFE OF DF. RRANKLXIS. 223 

The advantages which Great Britain de- 
rived from her colonies were so great, that 
nothing but a degree of infatuation, little 
short of madness, could have produced a con- 
tinuance of measures calculated to keep up a 
spirit of uneasiness, which might occasion the 
slightest wish for a separation. When we 
consider the great improvements in the sci- 
ence of government, the general diffusion of 
the principles of liberty amongst the people 
of Europe, the effects which these have al- 
ready produced in France, and the probable 
consequences which will result from them 
elsewhere, all of which are the offspring of 
the American revolution, it cannot but ap- 
pear strange, that events of so great moment 
to the happiness of mankind should have been 
ultimately occasioned by the wickedness or 
ignorance of a British ministry. 

Dr. Franklin left nothing untried to pre- 
vail upon the ministry to consent to a change 
of measures. In private conversations, and 
in letters to persons in government, he con- 
tinually expatiated upon the impolicy and in- 
justice of their conduct towards America; 
and stated, that, notwithstanding^ the attach- 



224 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

raent of the colonists to the mother countrj^ 
a repetition of ill treatment must ultimately 
alienate their affections. They listened not 
to his advice. They blindly persevered in 
their own schemes, and left to the colonists 
no alternative, but opposition, or uncondition- 
al submission. The latter accorded not with 
the principles of freedom which they had 
been taught to revere. To the former they 
were compelled, though reluctantly, to have 
recourse. 

Dr. Franklin, finding all efforts to restore 
harmony between Great Britain and her col- 
onies useless, returned to America in the year 
1775, just after the commencement of hos- 
tilities. The day after his return he was 
elected by the legislature of Pennsylvania a 
delegate to congress. Not long after his 
election a committee was appointed, consist- 
ing of Mr. Lynch, Mr. Harrison, and him- 
self, to visit the camp at Cambridge, and, in 
conjunction with the commander-in-chief, to 
endeavor to convince the troops, whose term 
of enlistment was about to expire, of the ne- 
cessity of their continuing in the field, and 
persevering in the cause of their country. 




Dr. Bond sought the aid of Frankhn."— Page 193. 

Autobiograpliy of Bcnjamiu Franklin. 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 225 

In the fall of the same year he '^asited 
Canada, to endeavor to unite them in the 
common cause of liberty ; but they could not 
be prevailed upon to oppose the measures of 
the British government. M. le Roy, in a let- 
ter annexed to Abbe Fauchet's eulogium of 
Dr. Franklin, states, that the ill success of 
this negotiation was occasioned, in a great 
degree, by religious animosities, which sub- 
sisted between the Canadians and their neigh- 
bors, some of whom had, at different times, 
burnt their chapels. 

When Lord Howe came to America, in 
1776, vested with power to treat with the 
colonists, a correspondence took place be- 
tween him and Dr. Franklin on the subject 
of a reconciliation. Dr. Franklin was after- 
wards appointed, together with John Adams 
and Edward Rutledge, to wait upon the com- 
missioners, in order to learn the extent of 
their powers. These were found to be only 
to grant pardons upon submission. These 
were terms which would not be accepted ; 
and the object of the commissioners could not 
he obtained. 

The momentous question of independence 

15 Franklin 



226 LIFE OF DB. FRANKLIN. 

was shortly after brought into view, at a time 
when the fleets and armies, which were sent 
to enforce obedience, were truly formidable. 
With an army, numerous indeed, but ignorant 
of discipline, and entirely unskilled in the art 
of war, without money, without a fleet, with- 
out allies, and with nothing but the love of 
liberty to support them, the colonists de- 
termined to separate from a country, from 
which they had experienced a repetition of in- 
jury and insult. In this question, Dr. Frank- 
lin was decidedly in favor of the measure 
proposed, and had great influence in bringing 
others over to his sentiments. 

The public mind had been already prepared 
for this event, by Mr. Paine's celebrated pam- 
phlet. Common Sense, There is good reason 
to believe that Dr. Franklin had no incon- 
siderable share, at least, in furnishing mate- 
rials for this work. 

In the convention which assembled at Phil- 
adelphia in 1776, for the purpose of estab- 
lishing a new form of government for the 
state of Pennsylvania, Dr. Franklin was 
chosen president. The late constitution of 
this state, which was the result of their de» 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 22 



Zl. i 



liberations, may be considered as a digest of 
his principles of government. The single 
legislature, and the plural executive, seem to 
have been his favorite tenets. 

In the latter end of 1776, Dr. Franklin 
was appointed to assist at the negotiation 
which had been set on foot by Silas Deane, 
at the court of France. A conviction of the 
advantages of a commercial intercourse with 
America, and a desire of weakening the 
British Empire by dismembering it, first in- 
duced the French court to listen to proposals 
of an alliance. But they showed rather a 
reluctance to the measure, which by Dr. 
Franklin's address, and particularly by the 
success of the American arms against Gene- 
ral Burgoyne, was at length overcome ; and in 
February, 1778, a treaty of alliance, offensive 
and defensive, was concluded ; in consequence 
of which France became involved in the war 
with Great Britain. 

Perhaps no person could have been found 
more capable of rendering essential services ' 
to the United States at the court of France 
than Dr. Franklin. He was well known as a 
philosopher, and his character was held in the 



228 LIFE OP DR. FRANKLIN. 

highest estimation. He was received with 
the greatest marks of respect by all the lit- 
erary characters ; and this respect was ex- 
tended amongst all classes of men. His per- 
sonal influence was hence very considerable. 
To the eflfects of this were added those of va- 
rious performances which he published, tend- 
ing to establish the credit and character of the 
United States. To his exertions in this way 
may, in no small degree, be ascribed the suc- 
cess of the loans negotiated in Holland and 
France, which greatly contributed to bringing 
the war to a happy conclusion. 

The repeated ill success of their arms, and 
more particularly the capture of Cornwallis 
and his army, at length convinced the British 
nation of the impossibility of reducing the 
Americans to subjection. The trading inter- 
est particularly became clamorous for peace. 
The ministry were unable longer to oppose 
their wishes. Provisional articles of peace 
were agreed to, and signed at Paris, on the 
30th of November, 1782, by Dr. Franklin, 
Mr. Adams, Mr. Jay, and Mr. Laurens, on 
the part of the United States ; and by Mr. 
Oswald 0)1 the part of Great Britain. These 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 229 

formed the basis of the definitive treaty, which 
was concluded on the 3d of September, 1T83, 
and signed by Dr. Franklin, Mr. Adams, and 
Mr. Jay, on the one part, and by Mr. David 
Hartly on the other. 

On the 3d of April, 1783, a treaty of am- 
ity and commerce, between the United States 
and Sweden, was concluded at Paris by Dr. 
Franklin and the Count Von Krutz. 

A similar treaty with Prussia was conclud- 
ed in 1785, not long before Dr. Franklin's 
departure from Europe. 

Dr. Franklin did not suflfer his political 
pursuits to engross his whole attention. Some 
of his performances made their appearance 
in Paris. The object of these was generally 
the promotion of industry and economy. 

In the year 1784, when animal magnetism 
made great noise in the world, particularly 
at Paris, it was thought a matter of such im- 
portance that the king appointed commission- 
ers to examine into the foundation of this 
pretended science. Dr. Franklin was one of 
the number. After a fair and diligent exam* 
ination, in the course of which Mesmer re- 
peated a number of experiments, in the pres- 



230 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

ence of the commissioners, some of which 
were tried upon themselves, they determined 
that it was a mere trick, intended to impose 
upon the ignorant and credulous — Mesmer 
was thus interrupted in his career to wealth 
and fame, and a most insolent attempt to im- 
pose on the human understanding baffled. 

The important ends of Dr. Franklin's mis- 
sion being completed by the establishment of 
American independence, and the infirmities 
of age and disease coming upon him, he be- 
came desirous of returning to his native coun- 
try. Upon application to congress to be re- 
called, Mr. Jefi'erson was appointed to suc- 
ceed him, in 1785. Some time in September 
of the same year. Dr. Franklin arrived in 
Philadelphia. He was shortly after chosen a 
member of the supreme executive c^'ni'ill for 
the city, and soon after was elected f resident 
of the same. 

When a convention was called to meet in 
Philadelphia, in 1787, for the purpose of giv- 
ing more energy to the government of the 
union, by revising and amending the articles 
of confederation, Dr. Franklin was appointed 
a delegate from the state of Pennsylvania. 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 231 

He signed the constitution which they pro- 
posed for the union, and gave it the most un- 
equivocal marks of his approbation. 

A society for political inquiries, of which 
Dr. Franklin was president, was established 
about this period. The meetings were held 
at his house. Two or three essays read in 
this society were published. It did not long 
continue. 

In the year 1787, two societies were estab- 
lished in Philadelphia, founded on the princi- 
ples of the most liberal and refined humanity 
— The Philadelphia Society for alleviating 
the miseries of public prisons ; and the Penn- 
sylvania Society for promoting the abolition 
of slavery, the relief of free negroes unlaw- 
fully held in bondage, and the improvement 
of the condition of the African race. Of 
each of these Dr. Franklin was president. 
The labors of these bodies have been crowned 
with great success ; and they continue to 
prosecute, with unwearied diligence, the laud- 
able designs for which they were established. 

Dr. Franklin's increasing infirmities pre- 
vented his regular attendance at the council 
chamber; and, in 1788, he retired wholly 
from public life. 



232 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

His constitution had been a remarkably 
•/ good one. He had been little subject to dis- 
ease, except an attack of the gout occasion- 
ally, until about the year 1781, when he was 
first attacked with symptoms of the calculous 
complaint, which continued during his life* 
During the intervals of pain from this griev- 
ous disease, he spent many cheerful hours, 
conversing in the most agreeable and instruct- 
ive manner. His faculties were entirely un- 
impaired even to the hour of his death. 

His name, as president of the abolition so- 
ciety, was signed to the memorial presented 
to the House of Representatives of the United 
States, on the 12th of February, 1789, pray- 
ing them to exert the full extent of power 
vested in them by the constitution, in dis- 
couraging the traffic of the human species. 
This was his last public act. — In the debates 
to which his memorial gave rise, several at- 
tempts were made to justify the trade. In 
the Federal Gazette of March 25, there ap- 
peared an essay, signed Historicus, written 
by Dr. Franklin, in which he communicated 
a speech, said to have been delivered in the 
Divan of Algiers, in 1687, in opposition to the 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 233 

prayer of the petition of a sect called Erikay 
or pursuits, for the abolition of piracy and 
slavery. This pretended African speech was 
an excellent parody of one delivered by Mr. 
Jackson, of Georgia. All the arguments 
urged in favor of negro slavery, are applied 
with equal force to justify the plundering and 
enslaving of Europeans. It affords, at the 
same time, a demonstration of the futility of 
the arguments in defense of the slave trade, 
and of the strength of mind and ingenuity of 
the author, at his advanced period of life. It 
furnished too, a no less convincing proof of 
his power of imitating the style of other times 
and nations, than his celebrated parable 
against persecution. And as the latter led 
many persons to search the Scriptures with a 
view to find it, so the former caused many 
persons to search the bookstores and libraries 
for the work from which it was said to be 
extracted. 

In the beginning of April following, he was 
attacked with a fever and complaint of his 
breast, which terminated his existence. The 
following account of his last illness was writ- 
ten by his friend and physician, Dr. Jones* 

16 Franklin 



234 LIFE OP DR. FRANKLIN. 

'' The stone, with which he had been af- 
flicted for several years, had for the last 
twelve months confined him chiefly to his bed; 
and, during the extreme painful paroxysms, 
he was obliged to take large doses of lauda- 
num to mitigate his tortures — still, in the in- 
tervals of pain, he not only amused himself 
with reading and conversing cheerfully with 
his family, and a few friends who visited him, 
but was often employed in doing business of 
a public as well as private nature, with various 
persons who waited on him for that purpose ; 
and in every instance, displayed, not only 
that readiness and disposition of doing good, 
which was the distinguishing characteristic 
of his life, but the fullest and clearest pos- 
session of his uncommon mental abilities ; and 
not unfrequently indulged himself in those 
jeux d'esprit and entertaining anecdotes, 
whi }h were the delight of all who heard him. 

" About sixteen days before his death, he 
was seized with a feverish indisposition, with- 
out any particular symptoms attending it, 
till the third or fourth day, when he com- 
plained of a pain in the left breast, which in- 
creased till it became extremely acute, at- 



LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIM. 235 

Sended tTith a cough and laborious breathing. 
During this state, when the severity of his 
pains sometimes drew forth a groan of com- 
plaint, he would observe — that he was afraid 
^e did not bear them as he ought — acknowl- 
idged his grateful sense of the many blessiiig:^ 
le had received from that Supreme Being, 
(vho had raised him from small and low be- 
ginnings to such high rank and consideration 
among men — and made no doubt but his 
present afflictions were kindly intended to 
wean him from a world, in which he was no 
longer fit to act the part assigned him. In 
this frame of body and mind he continued till 
five days before his death, when his pain and 
<lifficulty of breathing entirely left him, and 
his family were flattering themselves with the 
hopes of his recovery, when an imposthuma- 
tion, which had formed itself in his lungs, 
suddenly burst, and discharged a great quan- 
tity of matter, which he continued to throw 
up while he had sufficient strength to do it ; 
but, as that failed, the organs of respiration 
became gradually oppressed — a calm lethar- 
gic state succeeded — and, on the ITth of 
April, 1790, about eleven o'clock at night, he 



236 LIFE OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

quietly expired, closing a long and useful life 
of eighty-four years and three months." 

It may not be amiss to add to the above 
account, that Dr. Franklin, in the year 1735, 
had a severe pleurisy, which terminated in an 
abscess of the left lobe of his lungs, and he 
was then almost suffocated with the quantity 
and suddenness of the discharge. A second 
attack, of a similar nature, happened some 
years after this, from which he soon recovered, 
and did not appear to suffer any inconvenience 
in his respiration from these diseases. 

The following epitaph on himself, was writ- 
ten by him many years previous to his death : 

THE BODY 
of 

BENJAMIN FRANKLIN, 

Printer, 

(like the cover of an old book 

its contents torn out, 

and stript of its lettering and gilding,) 

lies here food for worms ; 

yet the work itself shall not be lost, 

for it will (as he believed) appear once more 

in a new 

and more beautiful edition, 

corrected and amended 

by 

THE AUTHOR. 



EXTEACTS FEOM THE LAST WILL AND 
TESTAMENT OF DR. FRANKLLST. 

With regard to my books, those I had in 
France, and those I left in Philadelphia, be- 
ing now assembled together here, and a cat- 
alogue made of them, it is my intention to 
dispose of the same as follows : 

My '' History of the Academy of Sciences," 
in sixty or seventy volumes quarto, T give to 
the Philosophical Society of Philadelphia, of 
which I have the honor to be president. My 
collection in folio of ^'Les Arts et les Me- 
tiers," I give to the American Philosophical 
Society, established in New England, of 
which I am a member. My quarto edition 
of the same, " Arts et Metiers/' I give to the 
Library Company of Philadelphia. Such 
and so many of my books as I shall mark, in 
the said catalogue, with the name of my 
grandson, Benjamin Franklin Bache, I do 
hereby give to him : and such and so many of 
my books as I shall mark in the said cata- 
logue with the name of my grandson William 



238 EXTRACTS FROM 

Bache, I do hereby give to him : and such 
as shall be marked with the name of Jonathan 
Williams, I hereby give to my cousin of that 
name. The residue and remainder of all my 
books, manuscripts, and papers, I do give to 
my grandson William Temple Franklin. My 
share in the Library Company of Philadelphia 
I give to my grandson, Benjamin Franklin 
Bache, confiding that he will permit his 
brothers and sisters to share in the use of it. 
I was born in Boston, New England, and 
owe my first instructions in literature to the 
free grammar school established there. I 
therefore give one hundred pounds sterling to 
my executors, to be by them, the survivors or 
survivor of them, paid over to the managers 
or directors of the free schools in my native 
town of Boston, to be by them, or the person 
or persons, who shall have the superintend- 
ence and management of the said schools, 
put out to interest, and so continued at in- 
terest for ever ; which interest annually shall 
be laid out in silver medals, and given as hon- 
orary rewards annually by the dirc^itors of 
the said free schools, for the encouragement 
of scholarship in the said schools, belonging 



DR. franklin's will. 239 

to the said town, in such manner as to the 
discretion of the select men of the said town 
shall seem meet. 

Out of the salary that may remain due to 
me, as president of the state, I give the sum 
of two thousand pounds to my executors, to he 
by them, the survivors or survivor of them, 
paid over to such person or persons as the 
legislature of this state, by an act of assem- 
bly, shall appoint to receive the same, in 
trust, to be employed for making the Schuyl- 
kill navigable. 

During the number of years I was in busi- 
ness as a stationer, printer, and postmaster, a 
great many small sums became due to me, for 
books, advertisements, postage of letters, and 
other matters, which were not collected, 
when, in 1757, I was sent by the Assembly 
to England as their agent — and, by subse- 
quent appointments continued there till 1775 
— when, on my return, I was immediately 
engaged in the aifairs of congress, and sent 
to France in 1776, where I remained nine 
years, not returning till 1785 ; and the said 
debts not being demanded in such a length of 
time, have become in a manner obsolete, yet 



240 EXTRACTS FROM 

are nevertheless justly due. These as thev 
are stated in my great folio ledger, E, I be- 
queath to the contributors of the Pennsyl- 
vania hospital, hoping that those debtors, and 
the descendants of such as are deceased, who 
now, as I find, make some diflSculty of satis- 
fying such antiquated demands as just debts, 
may, however, be induced to pay or give them 
as charity to that excellent institution. I am 
sensible that much must be inevitably lost^ 
but I hope something considerable may be 
recovered. It is possible, too, that some of 
the parties charged may have existing old un- 
settled accounts against me: in which case 
the managers of the said hospital will allow 
and deduct the amount, or pay the balance,^ 
if they find it against me. 

I request my friends, Henry Hill, Esq., 
John Jay, Esq., Francis Hopkinson, and Mr. 
Edward Duffield of Bonfield, in Philadelphia 
county, to be the executors of this my last 
will and testament, and I hereby nominate 
and appoint them for that purpose. 

I would have my body buried with as little 
expense or ceremony as may be. 

PhiLAXeiphiaj July 17, 1788. 



DR. franklin's will. 241 



CODICIL. 



I, Benjamin Franklin, in the foregoing 
or annexed last will and testament, having 
further considered the same, do think proper 
to make and publish the following codicil, or 
addition thereto : 

It having long been a fixed and political 
opinion of mine, that in a democratical state 
there ought to be no offices of profit, for the 
reasons I had given in an article of my draw- 
ing in our constitution, it was my intention^ 
when I accepted the office of president, to de- 
vote the appointed salary to some public user 
accordingly I had already, before I made my 
last will in July last, given large sums of it 
to colleges, schools, building of churches, &c., 
and in that will I bequeathed two thousand 
pounds more to the state, for the purpose of 
making the Schuylkill navigable ; but under- 
standing since, that such a sum would do but 
little towards accomplishing such a work, and 
that the project is not likely to be undertaken 
for many years to come — and having enter- 
tained another idea, which I hope maj- be 



242 EXTRACTS FROM 

more exten-sively useful, I do hereby revoke 
and annul the bequest, and direct that the 
certificates I have for what remains due to me 
of that salary, be sold towards raising the 
sum of two thousand pounds sterling, to be 
disposed of as I am now about to order. 

It has been an opinion, that he who re- 
ceives an estate from his ancestors, is under 
some obligation to transmit the same to pos- 
terity. This obligation lies not on me, who 
never inherited a shilling from any ancestor 
or relation. I shall, however, if it is not di- 
minished by some accident before my death, 
leave a considerable estate among my de- 
scendants and relations. The above observa- 
tion is made merely as some apologj^ to my 
family, for my making bequests that do not 
appear to have any immediate relation to 
their advantage. 

I was born in Boston, New England, and 
owe ray first instructions in literature to the 
free grammar schools established there. I 
have therefore considered those schools in 
my will. 

But I am also under obligations to the state 
of Massachusetts, for having, unasked, ap- 



DR. FRANKLIN'S WILL. 243 

pointed me formerly their agent, with a hand- 
some salary, which continued some years; 
and, although I accidently lost in their ser- 
vice, by transmitting Governor Hutchinson's 
letters, much more than the amount of what 
they gave me, I do not think that ought in 
the least to diminish my gratitude. I have 
considered that, among artisans, good ap- 
prentices are most likely to make good citi- 
zens ; and having myself been bred to a man- 
ual art, printing, in my native town, and af- 
terwards assisted to set up my business in 
Philadelphia by kind loans of money from 
two friends there, which was the foundation 
of my fortune, and of all the utility in life 
that may be ascribed to me — I wish to be 
useful even after my death, if possible, in 
forming and advancing other young men, that 
may be serviceable to their country in both 
these towns. 

To this end I devote two thousand pounds 
sterling, which I give, one thousand thereof 
to the inhabitants of the town of Boston in 
Massachusetts, and the other thousand to the 
inhabitants of the city of Philadelphia, in 
trust, to and for the uses, intents, and pur- 
poses, herein after mentioned and declaied. 



244 ^.XTBACTS FHO.M 

The said sum of one thousand pounds ster- 
ling, if accepted by the inhabitants of the 
town of Boston, shall be managed under the 
direction of the select men, united with the 
ministers of the oldest episcopalian, congre- 
gational, and presbyterian churches in that 
town, who are to let out the same upon inter- 
est at five per cent, per annum, to such young 
married artificers, under the age of twenty- 
five years, as have served an apprenticeship 
in the said town, and faithfully fulfilled the 
duties required in their indentures, so as to 
obtain a good moral character from at least 
two respectable citizens, who are willing to 
become sureties in a bond, with the applicants, 
for the repayment of the money so lent, with 
interest, according to the terms herein after 
prescribed ; all which bonds are to be taken^ 
for Spanish milled dollars, or the value there- 
of in current gold coin : and the manager 
shall keep a bound book, or books, wherein* 
shall be entered the names of those who shall^ 
apply for and receive the benefit of this in- 
stitution, and of their sureties, together with 
the sums lent, the dates, and other necessary 
and proper records respecting the business 



DR. franklin's will. 245 

mnd concerns of this institution : and as these 
loans are intended to assist young married 
artificers in setting up their business, they 
are to be proportioned by the discretion of 
the managers, so as not to exceed sixty 
pounds sterling to one person, nor to be less 
than fifteen pounds. 

And if the number of appliers so entitled 
should be BO large as that the sum will not suf- 
fice to afford to every one some assistance, 
these aids may therefore be small at first, but 
as the capital increases by the accumulated 
interest, they will be more ample. And in 
order to serve as many as possible in their 
turn, as well as to make the repayment of 
the principal borrowed more easy, each bor- 
rower shall be obliged to pay with the yearly 
interest, one-tenth part of the principal; 
which sums of principal and interest so paid 
in, shall be again let out to fresh borrowers. 
And it is presumed, that there will be always 
found in Boston virtuous and benevolent cit- 
izens,, willing to bestow a part of their time 
in doing good to the rising generation, by 
superintending and managing this institution 
gratis ; it is hoped, that no part of the money 



246 EXTRACTS FROM 

will at any time lie dead, or be diverted to 
other purposes, but be continually augment- 
ing by the interest, in which case there may 
in time be more than the occasion in Boston 
may require ; and then some may be spared 
to the neighboring or other towns in the said 
state of Massachusetts, which may desire to 
have it, such towns engaging to pay punctu- 
ally the interest, and the proportions of the 
principal annually to the inhabitants of the 
town of Boston. If this plan is executed, and 
succeeds, as projected, without interruption 
for one hundred years, the sum will be then 
one hundred and thirty-one thousand pounds ; 
of which I would have the managers of the 
donation to the town of Boston then lay out, 
at their discretion, one liundred thousand 
pounds in public works, which may be judged 
of most general utility to the inhabitants: 
such as fortifications, bridges, aqueducts, pub- 
lic buildings, baths, pavements, or whatever 
may make living in the town more convenient 
to its people, and render it more agreeable to 
strangers resorting thither for health, or a 
temporary residence. The remaining thirty- 
one thousand pounds I would liave continuec} 



DR. franklin's will. 247 

to be let out to interest, in the manner aboc 
directed, for one hundred years; as I hot'C 
it will have been found, that the institution 
has had a good effect on the conduct of youth, 
and been of service to many worthy charac- 
ters and useful citizens. At the end of this 
second term, if no unfortunate accident has 
prevented the operation, the sum will be four 
millions and sixty-one thousand pounds ster- 
ling, of which I leave one million and sixty- 
one thousand pounds to the disposition and 
management of the inhabitants of the town 
of Boston, and the three millions to the dis- 
position of the government of the state ; not 
presuming to carry my views further. 

All the directions herein given respecting 
the disposition and management of the dona- 
tion to the inhabitants of Boston, I would 
have observed respecting that to the inhab- 
itants of Philadelphia, only as Philadelphia 
is incorporated, I request the corporation of 
that city to undertake the management, 
agreeable to the said directions: and I do 
hereby vest them with full and ample powers 
for that purpose. And having considered 
that the covering its ground plat with build- 



*248 EXTRACTS FROiM 

ings and pavements, which carry oflf most 
rain, and prevent its soaking into the earth, 
^nd renewing and purifying the springs, 
whence the water of the wells must gradually 
,grow worse, and in time be unfit for use, as I 
find has happened in all old cities ; I recom- 
mend, that, at the end of the first hundred 
jears, if not done before, the corporation of 
the city employ a part of the hundred thou- 
sand pounds in bringing by pipes the water 
of Wissahickon creek into the town, so as to 
supply the inhabitants; which I apprehend 
may be done without great difficulty, the level 
of that creek being much above that of the 
city, and may be made higher by a dam. I 
also recommend making the Schuylkill com- 
pletely navigable. At the end of the second 
liundred years, I would have the disposition 
of the four millions and sixty-one thousand 
pounds divided between the inhabitants of 
the city of Philadelphia and the government 
of Pennsylvania, in the same manner as here- 
in directed with respect to that of the in- 
habitants of Boston and the government of 
Massachusetts. It is my desire that this in- 
stitution should take place, and begin to op- 



DR. franklin's will. 249 

erate -v^ithin one year after my decease ; for 
which purpose due notice should be publicly 
given, previous to the expiration of that year^ 
that those for whose benefit this establishment 
is intended may make their respective appli- 
cations : and I hereby direct my executors^ 
the survivors and survivor of them, within six 
months after my decease, to pay over the said 
sum of two thousand pounds sterling to such 
persons as shall be duly appointed by the 
select men of Boston, and the corporation of 
Philadelphia, and to receive and take charge 
of their respective sums of one thousand 
pounds each for the purposes aforesaid. Con- 
sidering the accidents to which all human 
affairs and projects are subject in such a 
length of time, I have perhaps too much flat- 
tered myself with a vain fancy, that these 
dispositions, if carried into execution, will be 
continued without interruption, and have the 
effects proposed ; I hope, however, that if the 
inhabitants of the two cities should not think 
fit to undertake the execution, they will at 
least accept the offer of these donations, as a 
mark of my good will, token of my gratitude, 
and testimony of my desire to be useful to 



250 EXTRACTS FROM, ETC. 

them even after my departure. I wish, in 
deed, that they may both undertake to en 
deavor the execution of my project, because 
I think, that, though unforeseen difficulties 
may arise, expedients will be found to remove 
them, and the scheme be found practicable. 
If one of them accepts the money with the 
conditions, and the other refuses, my will 
then is, that both sums be given to the inhab- 
itants of the city accepting ; the whole to be 
applied to the same purposes, and under the 
fiame regulations directed for the separate 
parts ; and if both refuse, the money remains 
of course in the mass of my estate, and it is 
to be disposed of therewith, according to my 
will made the seventeenth day of July, 1788. 
My fine crab-tree walking-stick, with a 
gold head curiously wrought in the form of 
the Cap of Liberty, I give to my friend, and 
the friend of mankind. General Washington. 
If it were a sceptre, he has merited it, and 
would become it. 



ESSAYS, 

HUMOROUS, MORAL, AND LITERARY. 



ON EARLY MARRIAGES. 

TO JOHN ALLEYN, ESQ. 

Dear Jack : — You desire, you say, my impartial 
thoughts on the subject of an early marriage, by way 
of answer to the numberless objections that have been 
made by numerous persons to your own. You may 
remember, when you consulted me on the occasion, 
that I thought youth on both sides to be no objection. 
Indeed, from the marriages that have fallen under my 
observation, I am rather inclined to think that early 
ones stand the best chance of happiness. The temper 
and habits of the young are not yet become so stiff 
and uncomplying, as when more advanced in life : 
they form more easily to each other, and hence, many 
occasions of disgust are removed. And if youth has 
less of that prudence which is necessary to manage a 
family, yet the parents and elder friends of young 
married persons are generally at hand to afford their 
advice, which amply supplies that defect ; and, by 
early marriage, youth is sooner formed to regular and 
useful life; and possibly some of those incidents or 
connections, that might have injured the constitution 
or reputation, or both, are thereby happily prevented. 
Particular circumstances of particular persons may 
possibly sometimes make it prudent to delay entering 
into that state ; but in general, when nature has ren- 
dered our bodies fit for it, the presumption is in nature's 

251 



252 franklin's essays. 

favor, tLat she has not judged amiss in making us d^ 
sire it. Late marriages are often attended, too, with 
this further inconvenience, that there is not the same 
chance that the parents should live to see their offspring 
educated. "Late children," says the Spanish proverb, 
"are early orphans." A melancholy reflection to those 
whose case it may be! "With us in America, mar- 
riages are generally in the morning of life: our chil- 
dren are therefore educated and settled in the world 
by noon ; and thus, our business being done, we have 
an afternoon and evening of cheerful leisure to our- 
selves, such as our friend at present enjoys. By these 
early marriages we are blessed with more children ; 
and from the mode among us, founded by nature, of 
every mother suckling and nursing her own child, 
more of them are raised. Thence the swift progress 
of population among us, unparalleled in Europe. In 
fine, I am glad you are married, and congratulate you 
most cordially upon it. You are now in the way of 
becoming a useful citizen; and ^^ou have escaped the 
unnatural state of celibacy for life — the fate of many 
here, who never intended it, but who, having too long 
postponed the change of their condition, find, at length, 
that it is too late to think of it, and so live all their 
lives in a situation that greatly lessens a man's value. 
An odd volume of a oet of books bears not the value 
of its proportion to the set. What think you of the 
odd half of a pair of scissor3? it can't well cut any- 
thing ; it may possibly serve to scrape a trencher. 

Pray make my compliments and best wishes accept- 
able to your bride. I am old and heavy, or I should 
ere this have presented them in person. I shall make 
but small use of the old man's privilege, that of giving 
advice to younger friends. Treat your wife alwaya 
with respect; it will procure respect to 3'ou, not only 
from her, but from all that observe it. Never use a 
slighting expression to her, even in jest; xorsligh'.s in 
jest, after frequent bandyings, are apt to end in angry 
earnest. Be studious in your profession, and you will 
be learned. Be industrious and frugal and you will 
be rich. Be sober and temperate, and you will be 
healthy. Be in e:eneral virtuous, and you will be 



franklin's essays. 253 

bappy. At least, you will, by such conduct, stand the 
best chance for such consequences, I pray God to bless 
you both ; being ever your affectionate friend. 

B. Franklin. 



THE WHISTLR 

A TEUE STORY, WRITTEN TO HIS NEPHEW. 

When I was a child, at seven years old, my frieods, 
on a holiday, filled my pockets with coppers. I went 
directly to a shop where they sold toys for children ; 
and, being charmed with the sound of a whistle, that 
I met by the way, in the hands of another boy, I vol- 
untarily offered him all my money for one. I then 
-came home, and went whistling all over the house, 
much pleased with my whistle, but disturbing all the 
family. My brothers, and sisters, and cousins, under- 
standing the bargain I had made, told me I had given 
four times as much for it as it was worth. This put 
me in mind what good things I might have bought 
with the rest of the money; and they laughed at me 
so much for my folly, that I cried with vexation : and 
the reflection gave me more chagrin than the whistle 
gave me pleasure. 

This, however, was afterward of use to me, the im- 
pression continuing on my mind; so that often, when 
I was tempted to buy some unnecessary thing, I said 
to myself, BorCt give too much for the whistle ; and I 
saved my money. 

As I grew up, came into the world, and observed 
the actions of men, I thought I met with many, very 
many, who gave too much for the whistle. 

When I saw any one too ambitious of court favors,' 
sacrificing his time in attendance on levees, his repose, 
his liberty, his virtue, and perhaps his friends, to attain 
it, I have said to myself, This man gives too much for 
his whistle. 



^54 franklin's essays. 

When I saw another fond of popularity, constantly 
employini]: himself in political bustle, neglecting his 
own affairs, and ruining them by that neglect ; He 
2 Ays indeed, says I, too mucli for his whistle. 

If I knew a miser, who gave up every kind of com 
fortable living, all the pleasure of doing good to others, 
all the esteem of his fellow citizens, and the joys of 
benevolent friendship, for the sake of accumulating 
wealth ; Poor man says I, you do indeed pay too much 
for your whistle. 

When I meet a man of pleasure, sacrificing every 
laudable improvement of the mind, or of his fortune, 
to mere corporeal sensations ; Mistaken man^ says I, 
you are providing pain for yourself instead of pleasure ; 
you give too much for your whistle. 

If 1 see one fond of fine clothes, fine furniture, fine 
equipages, all above his fortune, for which he contracts 
debts, and ends his career in prison ; Alas, says I, he 
has paid dear^ very dear for his whistle. 

When I see a beautiful, sweet-tempered girl, mar- 
ried to an ill-natured brute of a husband; What a 
pity it is, says I, that she has paid so much for a whistle. 

In short, I conceived that a great part of the mise- 
ries of mankind were brought upon them by the false 
estimates they had made of the value of things, and by 
their giving too much for their whistle. 



A PETITION 

TO THOSE WHO HATB THE SUPEiaNTENDKNOT OF EDUCATIOK. 

I ADDRESS myself to all the friends of youth, and 
conjure them to direct their compassionate regards to 
my unhappy fate, in order to remove the prejudices of 
wnich I am the victim. There are twin sisters of us: 
and the two eyes of man do not more resemble^ nor 
are capable of being upon better terms with each other, 



franklin's essays. 255 

than ji y sister and myself, were it not for the partiality 
of our parents, who made the most injurious distinc- 
tions between us. From m^^ infancy I have been led 
to consider my sister as a being of a more elevated 
rank. I was suffered to grow up without the least 
instruction, while nothing was spared in her educa- 
tion, ^he had masters to teach her writing, drawing, 
music, and other accomplishments; but if, by chance, 
I touched a pencil, a pen, or a needle, I was bitterly 
rebuked ; and more than once I have been beaten for 
being awkward, and wanting a graceful manner. It 
is true, my sister associated me with her upon some 
occasions; but she always made a point of taking the 
lead, calling upon me only from necessity, or to figure 
by her side. 

But conceive not, sirs, that my complaints are in 
stigated merely by vanity. No ; my uneasiness is 
occasioned by an object much more derious. It is the 
practice of our family, that the whole Imsiness of pro- 
viding for its subsistence falls upon my sister and my- 
self. If any indisposition should aback my sister, — 
and I mention it in confidence, upon this occasion, 
that she is subject to the gout, the rheumatism, and 
cramp, without making mention of other accidents — 
what would be the fate of our poor family ? Must not 
the regret of our parents be excessive, at having placed 
so great a difi"erence between sisters who are so per- 
fectly equal? Alas I we must perish from distress: 
for it would not be in my power even to scrawl a sup- 
pliant petition for relief, having been obliged to employ 
the hand of another in transcribing the request which 
I have now the honor to prefer to you. 

Condescend, sirs, to make my parents sensible of the 
injustice of an exclusive tenderness, and of the neceesi 
ty of distributing their care and affection among all 
their children equally, 

I am, with profound respect, Sirs, 

Your obedient servant^ 

Thk Left Hajta. 



^•^6 franklin's essays. 



THE HANDSOME AND DEFORMED LEG. 

There are two sorts of people in the world, who^ 
with equal degrees of health and wealth, and the other 
comforts of life, become the one happy, and the other 
miserable. This arises very much from the different 
views in which they consider things, persons, and 
events : and the effect of those different views upon 
their own minds. 

In whatever situations men can be placed, tliey may 
find conveniences and inconveniences : in whatever 
company, they may find persons and conversation 
more or less pleasing: at whatever table, they may 
ineot with meats and drinks of better and worse taste, 
dishes better and worse dressed: in whatever climate, 
they will find 2:ood and bad weather : under whatever 
government, they may find good and bad laws, and 
good and bad administration of those laws : in what- 
ever poem, or work of genius, they may see faults and 
beauties : in almost every face, and every person, they 
may discover fine features and defects, good and bad 
qualities. 

Under these circumstances, the two sorts of people 
above mentioned, fix tlieir attention ; those who are 
disposed to be happy, on the conveniences of things, 
the pleasant parts of conversation, the well dressed 
dishes, the goodness of the wines, the fine weather, 
<fec., and enjoy all with cheerfulness. Those who are 
to be unhappy, think and speak only of the contraries. 
Hence, they are continually discontented themselves, 
and, by the'" remarks, so\ r the pleasure of society; 
offend personally many people, and make themselves 
tivery where disagreeable. If this turn of mind was 
founded in nature, such ur happy persons would be the 
more to be pitied. But as the disposition to criticise, 
and to be disgusted, is, perhaps, taken up originally 
by imitation, and is, unawares, grown into a habit, 
which, ^-Jiough at present strong, may nevertheless be 



franklin's essays. 257 

CTired, when those who have it are convinced of it* 
bad effect on their felicity ; I hope this little admoni- 
tion may be of service to them, and put them on chang- 
ing a habit, which, though in the exercise it is chiefly 
an act of imagination, yet it has serious consequences 
in life, as it brings on real griefs and misfortunes. 
For as many are offended by, and nobody loves, this 
sort of people, no one shows them more than the most 
common civility and respect, and scarcely that; and 
this frequently puts them out of humor, and draws 
them into disputes and contentions. If they aim at 
obtaining some advantage in rank or fortune, nobody 
wishes them success, or will stir a step, or speak a 
word to favor their pretensions. If they incur public 
censure or disgrace, no one wiil defend or excuse, and 
many join to aggravate their misconduct, and render 
tliera completely odious. If these people will not 
ehange this bad habit, and condescend to be pleased 
svith what is pleasing, without fretting themselves or 
others about the contraries, it is good for others to avoid 
an acquaintance with them which is always disagreea- 
ble, and sometimes very inconvenient, especially when 
one finds one's self entangled in their quarrels. 

An old philosophical friend of mine was grown, from 
experience, very cautious in this particular, and care- 
fully avoided any intimacy with such people. He had, 
like other philosophers, a thermometer to show him 
the heat of the weather; and a barometer, to mark 
when it was likely to prove good or bad ; but there 
being no instrument invented to discover, at first sight, 
this unpleasing disposition in a person, he, for that 
purpose, made use of his legs: one of which was re- 
markably handsome; the other, by some accident, 
crooked and deformed. If a stranger, at first inter- 
view, regarded his ugly leg more than his handsome 
one, he doubted him. If he spoke of it, and took no 
notice of the handsome leg, that was sufiicient to de- 
termine my })hilosopher to have no further acquaintance 
with him. Everybody has not this two-legged instru- 
ment ; but erery one, with a little attention, may ob- 
«w*rve signs of that carping, fault-finding disposition. 
^^d take the same resolution of avoiding the acquain- 
17 Franklin 



258 fra^ztlin's essays. 

tance of those infected with it. I, therefore, advise 
those critical, querulous, discontented, unhappy people, 
if they wish to be respected and beloved by others, 
and happy in themselves, they should leave off looking 
<U the ugly leg. 



THE ART OF PROCURING PLEASANT DREAMa 

INSCRIBED TO MISS ; 

BKNO WBTTTEN AT HSB UCQUBST. 

As a great part of our life is spent in sleep, during 
which we have sometimes pleasing and sometimes 
painful dreams, it becomes of some consequence to ob- 
tain the one kind and avoid the other ; for whether 
real or imaginary, pain is pain, and pleasure is plea- 
sure. If we can sleep without dreaming, it is well 
that painful dreams are avoided. If, while we sleep, 
we can have any pleasing dreams, it is as the French 
say, tant gagne, so much added to the pleasure of life. 

To this end it is, in the first place, necessary to be 
careful in preserving health, by due exercise and great 
temperance ; for in sickness, the imagination is dis- 
turbed; and disagreeable, sometimes terrible, ideas 
are apt to present themselves. Exercise should pre- 
cede meals, not iuunediately follow them: the first 
promotes, the latter, unless moderate, obstructs diges- 
tion. If after exercise we feed sparingly, the digestion 
will be easy and good, the body lightsome, the temper 
cheerful, and all the animal functions performed agreea- 
bly. Sleep, when it follows, will be natural and 
undisturbed. "While indolence, with full feeding, oc- 
casions nightmares and horrors inexpressible : we fall 
from precipices, are assaulted by wild beasts, murder- 
ers, and demons, and experience every variety of dis- 
tress. Observe, however, that the quantities of food 
and exercise are relative things : those who move much 



franklin's essays. 259 

VAAjf and indeed ought, to eat more ; those who use lit- 
tle exercise, should eat little. In general, mankind 
Bince the improvement of cookery, eat about twice as 
much as nature requires. Suppers are not bad, if we 
have not dined ; but restless nights naturally follow 
hearty suppers after full dinners. Indeed, as there is a 
difference in constitutions, some will rest after these 
meals ; it costs them only a frightful dream and an 
apoplexy, after which they sleep till doomsday. ISToth 
ing is more common in the newspapers, than instances 
of people, who, after eating a hearty supper, are found 
dead a-bed in the morning. 

Another means of preserving health to be attended 
to, is the having a constant supply of fresh air in your 
bed-chamber. It has been a great mistake, the sleep- 
ing in rooms exactly closed, and in beds surrounded 
by curtains. No outward air that may come into you, 
is so unwholesome as the unchanged air, often breathed, 
of a close chamber. As boiling water does not grow 
hotter by longer boiling, if the particles that receive 
greater heat cau escape; so living bodies do not putre- 
fy, if the particles, as fast as they become putrid, can be 
thrown off. Nature expels them by the pores of the 
skin and lungs, and in a free open air, they are carried 
off ; but, in a close room, we receive them again and 
again, though they become more and more corrupt. A 
number of persons crowded into a small room, thus 
spoil the air in a few minutes, and even render it mor- 
tal, as in the "Black Hole" at Caleutta. A single per- 
son is said to spoil only a gallon of air per minute, and 
therefore requires a longer time to spoil a chamberfuil; 
but it is done, however, in proportion, and many putrid 
disorders hence have their origin. It is recorded of 
Methusalem, who, being the longest liver, may be sup- 
posed to have best preserved his health, that he slept 
always in the open air; for, when he had lived five 
hundred years, an angel said to him, •* Arise Methusa* 
lem, and build thee an house, for thou shall live yet 
five hundred years longer." ButMethusalem answered 
and said, " If I am to live but five hundred 3'eai8 longer, 
it is not worth while to build me an house — I will sleep 
in the air as I have been used to do." Physicians, at> 



260 franklin's essays. 

ter having for ages contended that the sick should not 
be indulged with fresh air, have at length discovered 
that it may do them good. It is therefore to be hoped 
that they may in time discover likewise, that it is not 
hurtful to those who are in health ; and that we may 
then be cured of the aerophobia, that at present dis- 
tresses weak minds, and makes them choose to be stifled 
and poisoned, rather than leave open the windows of 
a bedchamber, or put down the glass of a coach. 

Confined air, when saturated with perspirable mat 
ter,* will not receive more ; and that matter must re 
main in our bodies, and occasion diseases ; but it givea 
some previous notice of its being about to be hurtful, 
by producing certain uneasiness, slight indeed, at first, 
such as, with regard to the lungs, is a trifling sensation, 
and to the pores of the skin a kind of restlessness which 
it is difficult to describe, and few that feel it know the 
cause of it. But we may recollect, that sometimes, on 
waking in the night, we have, if warmly covered, found 
it difficult to get to sleep again. We turn often, with- 
out finding repose in any position. This fidgetiness, 
to use a vulgar expression for want of a better, is occa- 
sioned wholly by an uneasiness in the skin, owing to 
the retention of the perspirable matter — the bedclothes 
having received their quantity, and, being saturated, 
refusing to take any more. To become sensible of this 
by an experiment, let a person keep his position in the 
bed, but throw off the bedclothes, and suffer fresh air 
to approach the part uncovered of his body ; he will 
then feel that part suddenly refreshed ; for the air will 
immediately relieve the skin, by receiving, licking up, 
and carrying off the load of perspirable matter that 
inconunoded it. For every portion of cool air that ap- 
proaches the warm skin, in receiving its part of that 
vapor, receives therewith a degree of heat, that rare- 
fies and renders it lighter, when it will be pushed 
away with its burden, by cooler and therefore heavier 
fresh air ; which, for a moment supplies its place, and 

• Wbftt physicians call the perspirable matter, Is that vapor which 
pass«e oflF from our bodies, from Uie lanes and through the pores of 
thf% skin. The quantity of this is said to be five-eighths of what w« 
eat 



franklin's essays. 261 

then, being likewise changed and warmed, gives way 
to a succeeding quantity. This is the order of nature^ 
to prevent animals being infected by their own perspi- 
ration. He will now be sensible of the difference be- 
tween the part exposed to the air, and that which, re- 
maining sunk in the bed. denies the air access, for this 
part now manifests its uneasiness more distinctly by 
the comparison, and the seat of the uneasiness is more 
plainly perceived than when the whole surface of the 
body was affected by it. 

Here, then, is one great and general cause of un- 
pleasing dreams. For when the "body is uneasy, the 
mind will be disturbed by it, and disagreeable ideaa 
of various l^nds will, in sleep, be the natural conse- 
quences. The remedies, preventive and curative, follow ; 

1. By eating moderately, (as before advised for 
health's sake,) less perspirable matter is produced in a 
given time ; hence the bedclothes receive it longer be- 
fore they are saturated ; and we may, therefore, sleep 
longer, before we are made uneasy by their refusing to 
receive any more. 

2. By using thinner and more porous bedclothes, 
which will suffer the perspirable matter more easily 
to pass through them, we are less incommoded, suon 
being longer tolerable. 

3. When you are awakened by this uneasiness, and 
find you cannot easily sleep again, get out of bed, beat 
up and turn your pillow, shake the bedclothes well, 
with at least twenty shakes, then throw the bed open, 
and leave it to cool; in the meanwhile, continuing 
undressed, walk about your chamber, till your skin has 
had time to discharge its load, which it will do sooner 
as the air may be drier and colder. When j'ou begin 
to feel the cold air unpleasant, then return to your 
bed; soon you will fall asleep, and your sleep will be. 
sweet and pleasant. All the scenes presented to your 
fancy will be of the pleasing kind. I am often as 
agreeably entertained with them, as by the scenery of 
an opera. If you happen to be too indolent to get out 
of bed, you may, instead of it, lift up your bedclothes 
with one arm and leg, so as to draw in a good deal of 
fresh air, and by letting them fall, force it out again j 



262 franklin's essays. 

this, repeated twenty times, will so clear them of the 
perspirable matter they have imbibed, as to permit 
your sleeping well for some time afterward. But this 
latter method is not equal to the former. 

Those who do not love trouble, and can afford to 
have two beds, will find great luxury in rising, when 
they wake in a hot bed, and going into a cold one. 
Such shifting of beds would also be of great service to 
persons ill of fever, as it refreshes and frequently pro- 
cures sleep. A very large bed, that will admit a re- 
moval so distant from the first situation as to be cool 
and sweet, may, in a degree, answer the same end. 

One or two observations more will conclude this lit- 
tle piece. Care must be taken, when you lie down, to 
dispose your pillow so as to suit your manner of placing 
your head, and to be perfectly easy ; then place your 
limbs 80 as not to bear inconveniently hard upon od«» 
another: as, for instance, the joints of your ankles; 
for, though a bad position may at first give but little 
pain, and be hardly noticed, yet a continuance will 
render it less tolerable, and the uneasiness may come 
on while you are asleep, and disturb your imagination. 

These are the rules of the art. But though they 
will generally prove effectual in producing the end 
intended, there is a case in which the most punctual 
observance of them will be totally fruitless. I need 
not mention the case to you, my dear friend ; but my 
account of the art would be imperfect without it. The 
case is, when the person who desires to have pleasant 
dreams, has not taken care to preserve, what is necei^- 
•ary above all things— a good consoienoe. 



yaJLJTKIJK's ESSAYb, 263 

ADVICE TO A YOUNG TRADESMAN. 

WEITTBN AKNO 1748, TO MT FEIEND A. B. 

As you have desired it of me, I write the following 
hints, which have been of service to me, and may, if 
observed, be so to you. 

Remember that time is money. He that can earn 
ten shillings a day by his labor, and goes abroad, oi 
sits idle one half of that day, though he spends but 
sixpence during his diversion or idleness, ought not to 
reckon that the only expense ; he has really spent, oi 
rather has thrown away, five shillings besides. 

Remember that credit is money. If a man lets his 
money lie in my hands after it is due, he gives me th« 
interest, or so much as I can make of it during that 
time. This amounts to a considerable sum, where a 
man has good and large credit, and makes good use 
of it. 

Remember that money is of a prolific, generating 
nature. Money can beget money, and its offspring can 
beget, more, and so on. Five shillings turned is six; 
turned again it is seven and threepence ; and bo on till 
it becomes a hundred pounds. The more there is of it» 
the more it produces every turning, bo that the profits 
rise quicker and quicker. He that kills a breeding 
sow, destroys all her offspring to the thousandth gen- 
eration. He that murders a crown, destroys all that 
it might have produced, even scores of pounds. 

Remember that six pounds a year is but a groat a day. 
For this little sum, (which may be daily wasted, either 
in time or expense, unperceived,) a man of credit may, 
on his own security, have the constant possession and 
use of a hundred pounds. So much in stock, briskly 
tamed by an industrious man, produces great ad-* 
vantage. 

Remember this saying, "The good paymaster is lord 
of another man's purse," He that is known to pay 
punctually and exactly to the tinie he promises, may 



264 feankun's essays. 

at any time, and on any occasion, raise all the money 
his friends can spare. This is sometimes of great nse. 
After industry and frugality, nothing contributes more 
to the raising a young man in the world, than punc- 
tuality and justice in all his dealings : therefore, never 
keep borrowed money an hour beyond the time you 
promised, lest a disappointment shut up your friend*8 
purse forever. 

The most trifling actions that affect a man's credit 
are to be regarded. The sound of your hammer at 
five in the morning, or nine at night, neard by a credi- 
tor, makes him easy six months longer; but if he sees 
you at a billiard table, or hears your voice at a tavern, 
when you should be at work, he sends for his money 
the next day ; demands it before he can receive it in a 
lump. 

It shows besides that you are mindful of what you 
owe; it makes you appear a careful, as well as an 
honest man, and that still increases your credit. 

Beware of thinking all your own that you possess, 
and of living accordingly. It a mistake that many 
people who have credit fall into. To prevent this, 
keep an exact account, for some tim«^ both of your ex- 
penses and your income. If you take the pains, at 
first, to mention particulars, it will have this good 
effect ; you will discover how wonderfully small, tri- 
fling expenses mount up to large sums, and will discern 
what might have been, and may for the future be saved, 
without occasioning any great inconvenience. 

In short, the way to wealth, if you desire it, is as 
plain as the way to market. It depends chiefly on 
two words, industry and frugality; that is, waste 
neither time nor money^ but make the best use of both. 
Without industry and frugality, nothing will do, and 
with them everything. He that gets all he can hon- 
estly, and saves all he gets, (necessary expenses ex- 
cepted,) will certainly become rich — if that Being, 
who governs the world, to whom all should look for a 
blessing on their honest endeavors^ doth not, in his 
wise providence, otherwise determine. 

An Old Tiladbsm^v. 



franklin's E8SAY8. 265 

NECESSARY HINTS 

•O THOSE THAT WOULD BB RIGB, WBIITEN ANNO 17 8S. 

Thb use of money is all the adyantage there is in 
having money. 

For six pounds a year, you may have the U8« of one 
hundred pounds, provided you are a man of known 
prudence and honesty. 

He that spends a groat a day idly, spends idly above 
six pounds a year, which is the price for the use of one 
hundred pounds. 

He that wastes idly a groat's worth of his time per 
day, one day with another, wastes the privilege of usmg 
one hundred pounds each day. 

He that idly loses five shillings worth of time, loses 
five shillings, and might as prudently throw five shil- 
lings into the sea. 

He that loses five shillings, not only loses that sum, 
but all the advantages that might be made by turning 
it in dealing : which, by the time that a young man 
becomes old, will amount to a considerable sum of 
money. 

Again : he that sells upon credit, asks a price for 
what he sells, equivalent to the principal and interest 
of his money, for the time he is to be kept out of it: 
therefore, he that buys upon credit, pays interest for 
what he buys ; and he that pays ready money, might 
let that money out to use ; so that he that possesses 
anything he has bought, pays interest for the use of it. 

Yet, in buying goods, it is best to pay ready money, 
because, he that sells upon credit, expects to lose five 
per cent, by bad debts ; therefore, he charges, on all he 
Bells upon credit^ an advance that shall make up that 
deficiency. 

Those who pay for what they buy upon credit, pay 
their share of this advance. 

He that pays ready money, escapes, or may escapee, 
that charge. 

A penny saved is two pence clear , 
A pin a day^s a groai a year, 
18 Franklin L 



266 FRANKLIN S ESSAYS. 



THE WAY TO MAKE MONEY PLENTY 



IN EVERT MAN S POCKET. 

At this time, when the general complaint is, that 
" money is scarce,** it will be an act of kindness to in- 
form the moneyless how they may reinforce their 
pockets, I will acquaint them with the true secret of 
money-catching; the certain way to fill empty purses 
— and how to keep them always fulL Two simple 
rules, well observed, will do the business. 

First> Let honesty and industry be thy constant com- 
panions; and, 

Secondly, Spend one penny less then thy clear gains. 

Then shall thy hide-bound pocket soon begin to 
thrive, and will never again cry with the empty-belly- 
ache ; neither will creditors insult thee, nor want op- 
press, nor hunger bite, nor nakedness freeze thee. The 
whole hemisphere will shine brighter, and pleasure 
spring up in every corner of thy heart. Now, there- 
fore, embrace these rules and be happy. Banish the 
bleak winds of sorrow from thy mind, and live inde- 
pendent. Then shalt thou be a man, and not hide thy 
face at the approach of the rich, nor suffer the pain of 
feeling little when the sons of fortune walk at thy 
right hand: for independency, whether with little or 
much, is good fortune, and placeth thee on even ground 
with the proudest of the golden fleece. 0, then, be 
wise, and let industry walk with thee in the morning, 
and attend thee until thou reachest the evening hour 
for rest. Let honesty be as the breath of thy soul, and 
never forget to have a penny, when all thy expenses 
are enumerated and paid ; then shalt thou reach the 
point of happiness, and independence shall be thy 
shield and buckler, thy helmet and crown ; then shall 
thy soul walk upright^ nor stoop to the silken wretch, 
because he hath riches, nor pocket an abuse, because 
the hand which offers it wears a ring set with 
diamonds. 



franexin's essays. 267 



PAPER: A POEM. 

Some wit of old—flnch wits of old there wer^— 
Whoee hints showed meaning, whose allusionB 
By one hrave stroke to mark all human kind, 
Called clear blank paper every infant mind : 
When still, as opening sense her dictates wrot«\ 
Fair virtue put a seal, or vice a blot 

The thought was happy, pertinent, and true ; 
Methinks a genius might the plan pursue. 
I,— can you pardon my presumption ? — I, 
No wit, no genius, yet for once will try. 

Various the papers, various wants produoo, 
The wants of fashion, elegance, and use : 
Men are as various ; and, If right I scan, 
Each sort of paper represents some mem. 

Pray note the fop— half powder and half laoei, 
Nice as a bandbox were his dwelling place; 
He's the gUtpaper^ which apart you store, 
And lock from vulgar hands in the 'scrutoirc 

Mechanics, servants, farmers, and so Ibrth, 
Are copy paper ^ of inferior worth ; 
Less prized, more useful, for your desk decreed, 
Free to all pens, and prompt at every need. 

The wretch whom avarice bids to pinch and span, 
Starve, cheat, and pilfer, to enrich an heir. 
Is coarse ttrown pa/per ; such as pedlars choose 
To wrap up wares, which better men will use. 

Take next the misers contrast, who destroys 
Health, fame, and fortune, in a round of joys. 
Will any paper match him? Yes, throuirhout. 
He's a true sinking paper^ past all doubt 

The retail politician's anxious thought 

Deems this side always right and that stark nought; 

He foams with censure : with applause he ravee — 

A dupe to rumors, and a tool of knaves : 

He'll want no type his weakness to proclaim, 

While such a thing e&fooU'cap has a name. 

The hasty gentleman whose blood runs high. 
Who picks a quarrel, if you step awry. 
Who can't a jest or hint, or look endure; 
What is he ? What ^ touch-paper, to be snr©> 



268 franklin's essays. 



What are onr poets, take them as they fall, 
Good, bad, rich, poor, much read, not read at ail f 
Them and their works in the same class you'll find 
They are the mere waste pa/per of mankind. 

Observe the maiden, Innocently sweet, 
She's fair wMte pa/per, an unsullied sheet ; 
On which the happy man. whom fate ordains, 
May write his naone^ and take her for his pains. 

One instance more, and only one, I'll bring; 

'T is the great mam., who scorns a little thing, 

Whose thoughts, whose deeds, whose maxima are hte CfWtk^ 

Formed on the feelings of his heart alone ; 

True, genuine royal pa/per Is his breast; 

Of all the kinds most precious, purestjbest 



ON THE AET OF SWIMMING 

m ANSWER TO SOKE INQUIRIES OF M. DUBOUEG,* ON THF 

SUBJECT. , 

I AM apprehensive that I shall not be able to find 
leisure for making all the disquisitions and eiperimenos 
which would be desirable on the subject. I must, 
therefore, content myself with a few remarks. 

The specific gravity of some human bodies, in com- 
parison to that of water, has been examined by M. 
Robinson, in our Philosophical Transactions, vol 60» 
page 30, for the year 1^757. He asserts that fat per- 
sons, with small bones, float most easily upon water. 

The diving bell is accurately described m our Ti'ans- 
actions. 

When I was a boy, I made two oval pallets, each 
about ten inches long, and six broad, with a hole for 
the thumb, in order to retain it fast in the palm of my 
hand. They much resemble a painter's pallets. In 
swimming, I pushed the edges of these forward, and 
I struck the water with their flat surfaces as I drew 
them back. I remember I swam faster by means oi 

♦ Translator of Dr. Franklin's Works into Freneh. 



franklin's essays. 269 

thoes pallets, but they fatigued my wrists. I also 
fitted to 'the soles of my feet a kind of sandals ; but I 
was not satisfied with them, because I observed that 
the stroke is partly given by the inside of the feet and 
the ankles, and not entirely with the soles of the feet. 
We have here waistcoats for swimming, which are 
made of double sailcloth, with small pieces of cork 
qKiilted in between them. 

I know nothing of the Seaphandre of M. de la Cha- 
p^lle. 

I know by experience, that it is a great comfort to 
a swimmer, who has a considerable distance to go, to 
tTirn himself sometimes on his back, and to vary, in 
other respects, the means of procuring a progressive 
Ototion. 

When he is seized with the cramp in the leg, the 
method of driving it away is to give to the parts affect- 
ed a sudden, vigorous, and violent shock; which he 
way do in the air, as he swims on his back. 

During the great heats of summer, there is no dan- 
ger of bathing, however warm we may be, in rivers 
which have been thoroughly warmed by the sun. But 
to throw one's self into cold spring water, when the 
body has been heated by exercise in the sun, is an im- 
prudence which may prove fatal I once knew an in- 
stance of four young men, who, having worked at har- 
vest in the heat of the day, with a view of refreshing 
themselves, plunged into a spring of cold water: two 
died upon the spot ; a third the next morning, and the 
fourth, recovered with great difficulty. A copious 
draught of cold water, in similar circumstances, ia 
frequently attended with the same effect, in North 
America. 

The exercise of swimming is one of the most healthy 
<wid agreeable in the world. After having swam for 
an hour or two in the evening, one sleeps coolly the 
whole night, even during the most ardent heat of 
sxmmaer. Perhaps the pores being cleansed, the insen- 
dible perspiration increases, and occasions this cool- 
ness. It 18 certain that much swimming is the means 
of stopping a diarrhoea, and even of producing a con- 
Atipation. With respect to those who do not know how 



270 franklin's essays. 

to swim, or who are affected with a diarrhoea at a 
season which does not permit them to use that exer- 
cise, a warm bath, by cleansing and purifying the skin, 
is found very salutary, and often effects a radical cure. 
I speak from my own experience, frequently repeated, 
and that of others to whom I have recommended this. 

You will not be displeased if I conclude these hasty 
remarks by informing you, that as the ordinary method 
of swimming is reduced to the act of rowing with the 
arms and legs, and is consequently a laborious and 
fatiguing operation when the space of water to be 
crossed is considerable, there is a method in which a 
swimmer may pass to a great distance with much fa- 
cility, by means of a sail This discovery I fortunately 
made by accident, and in the following manner : 

When I was a boy, I amused myself one day with 
flying a paper kite ; and approaching the bank of a 
pond, which was nearly a mile broad, I tied the string 
to a stake, and the kite ascended to a very considera- 
ble height above the pond, while I was swimming. In 
a little time, being desirous of amusing myself with 
my kite, and enjoying at the same time the pleasure 
of swimming, I returned, and loosing from the stake the 
string with the little stick which was fastened to it, 
went again into the water, where I found, that lying 
on my back,- and holding the stick in my hands, 1 was 
drawn along the surface of the water in a very agreea- 
ble manner. Having then engaged another boy to 
carry my clothes round the pond, to a place which I 
pointed out to him, on the other side, I began to cross 
the pond with my kite, which carried me quite over 
without the least fatigue, and with the greatest pleas- 
ure imaginable. I was only obliged occasionally to 
halt a little in my course, and resist its progress, when 
it appeared that, by following too quick, I lowered the 
kite too much ; by doing which occasionally, I made it 
rise again. I have never since that time practiced this 
singular mode ©f swimming, though I think it not im 
possible to cross in this manner from Dover to Calais. 
The packet boat, however, is still preferable. 



FRANKLIN'S ESSAYS. 271 

NEW MODE OF BATHING. 

kxtbaots from a letter to m. duboueg. 

"London, Jult 28, 1768, 
'* I GREATLY apppovc the epithets which you give in. 
your letter of the 8th of June, to the new method of 
treating the stnall-pox, which you call the tonic or bra- 
cing method; I will take occasion from it, to mention a 
practice to which I have accustomed myself. You 
know the cold bath has long been in vogue here as a 
tonic ; but the shock of the cold water has always ap- 
peared to me, generally speaking, as too violent, and I 
have found it much more agreeable to my constitution 
to bathe in another element — I mean cold air. With 
this view, I rise early almost every morning, and sit in 
my chamber without any clothes whatever, half an 
hour or an hour, according to the season, either read- 
ing or writing. This practice is not in the least pain- 
ful, but, on the contrary, agreeable ; and if I return to 
bed afterwards, before I dress myself, as it sometimes 
happens, I make a supplement to my night's rest of 
one or two hours of the most pleasing sleep that can 
be imagined. I find no ill consequences whatever re- 
sulting from it^ and that at least it does not injure my 
health, if it does not in fact contribute to its preserva- 
tion. I shall therefore call it for the future a br<icing 
or tonic bath.** 



ON LUXURY, IDLENESS, AND INDUSTRY. 

Fr(Hn a letter to Bsnjamin Yaughak, Esq., Member of Parliamaot 
for the Borough of Cahie, U: Wiltshire, between whom and our 
anther there sabsisted a vary oIom friendabip— wrttten in 1781 

It is wonderful how preposterously the affairs of 
thiii world Lire managed. Naturally one would ima 



272 franklin's essays. 

gine, that the interest of a few individuals should give 
way to general interest ; but individuals manage their 
affairs with so much more application, industry, and 
address, than the public do theirs, that general interest 
most commonly gives way to particular. We assem- 
ble parliaments and councils, to have the benefit of 
their collected wisdom ; but we necessarily have, at the 
same time, the inconvenience of their collected passions, 
prejudices, and private interest. By the help of these, 
artful men overpower their wisdom, and dupe its pos- 
sessors; and if we may judge by the acts, arrets, and 
edicts, all the world over, for regulating commerce, an 
assembly of great men is the greatest fool on earth. 

I have not yet, indeed, thought of a remedy, for lux- 
ury. I am not sure that, in a great state, it is capable 
of a remedy ; nor that the evil is in itself always so 
great as is represented. Suppose we include in the 
definition of luxury all unnecessary expense, and then 
let us consider whether laws to prevent such expense 
are possible to be executed in a great country, and 
whether, if they could be executed, our people gener- 
ally would be happier, or even richer. Is not the hope 
of being one day able to purchase and enjoy luxuries, a 
great spur to labor and industry ? May not luxury, 
therefore, produce more than it consumes, if, without 
such a spur, people would be, as they are naturally 
enough inclined to be, lazy and indolent ? To this pur- 
pose I remember a circumstance. The skipper of a 
shallop, employed between Cape May and Philadelphia, 
had done us some small service, for which he refused 
to be paid. My wife understanding that he had a 
daughter, sent her a present of a new-fashioned cap. 
Three years after, this skipper being at my house with 
an old farmer of Cape May, his passenger, he mentioned 
the cap, and how much his daughter had been pleased 
with it " But (said he) it proved a dear cap to our 
congregation." "How so f" "When my daughter 
appeared with it at meeting, it was so much admired, 
that all the girls resolved to get such caps from Phila- 
delphia ; and my wife and I computed that the whole 
could not have cost less than a hundred pounds." 
'•True, (said the farmer,) but you do not tell all tht 



FRANKLIN^S ESSAYS. 273 

story. I think the cap was nevertheless an advan- 
tage to ns, for it was the first thing that pnt our girls 
npon knitting worsted mittens for sale at Philadelphia, 
that they might have wherewith to buy caps and rib- 
bons there ; and you know that that industry has con- 
tinued, and is likely to continue and increase to a much 
greater value, and answer better purposes." Upon the 
whole, I was more reconciled to this little piece of lux- 
ury, since not only the girls were made happier by 
having fine caps, but the Philadelphians by the supply 
of warm mittens. 

In our commercial towns upon the seacoast, fortunes 
will occasionally be made. Some of those who grow 
rich will be prudent, live within bounds, and preserve 
what they have gained, for their posterity; others, 
fond of showing their wealth, will be extravagant, and 
ruin themselves. Laws cannot prevent this; and per- 
haps it is not always an evil to the public. A shilling 
spent idly by a fool, may be picked up by a wiser per- 
son, who knows better what to do with it. It is there- 
fore not lost. A vain, silly fellow builds a fine house, 
furnishes it richly, lives in it expensively, and in a few 
years ruins himself; but the masons, carpenters, smiths, 
and other honest tradesmen have been, by his employ, 
assisted in maintaining and raising their families ; the 
farmer has been paid for his labor, and encouraged, 
and the estate is now in better hands. In some cases, 
indeed, certain modes of luxury may be a public evil, 
in the same manner as it is a private one. If there be 
a nation, for instance, that exports its beef and linen, 
to pay for the importation of claret and porter, while 
a great part of its people live upon potatoes, and wear 
no shirts — wherein does it dijBfer from the sot, who lets 
his family starve, and sells his clothes to buy drink ? 

Our American commerce is, I confess, a little in this 
way. We sell our victuals to the Islands, for rum and 
sugar; the substantial necessaries of life for super- 
fluities. But we have plenty and live well neverthe- 
less ; though, by being soberer, we might be richer. 

The vast quantity of forest land we have yet to clear 
And put in order for cultivation, will for a long time 
keep the body of our nation laboi-ious and frugal 



274 franklin's essays. 



Forming an opinion of our people and their manners 
by what is seen among the inhabitants of the seaports, 
is judging from an improper sample. The people of 
the trading towns may be rich and luxurious, while 
the country possesses all the virtues that tend to pro- 
mote happiness and public prosperity. Those towns 
are not much regarded by the country; they are hard- 
ly considered as an essential part of the states; and 
the experience of the last war has shown that their 
being in the possession of the enemy did not necessa- 
rily draw on the subjection of the country, which 
bravely continued to maintain its freedom and inde- 
pendence notwithstanding. 

It has been computed by some political arithmeti- 
cian that if every man and woman would work for 
four hours each day on something useful, that labor 
would produce sufficient to procure all the necessaries 
and comforts of life; want and misery would be ban- 
ished out of the world, and the rest of the twenty-four 
hours might be leisure and pleasure. 

What occasions, then, so much want and misery ? 
It is the employment of men and women in works that 
produce neither the necessaries nor conveniences of life; 
who, with those who do nothing, consume necessaries 
raised by the laborious. To explain this : 

The first elements of wealth are obtained by labor, 
from the earth and waters. I have land, and raise 
corn. With this, if I feed a family that does nothing, 
my corn will be consumed, and at the end of the year 
I shall be no richer than I was at the beginning. But 
if, while I feed them, I employ them, some at spinning, 
others in making bricks, &c., for building, the value of 
my corn will be arrested and remain with me, and at 
the end of the year we all may be better clothed and 
better lodged. And if, instead of employing a man I 
feed in making bricks, I employ him in fiddling for 
me, the corn he eats is gone, and no part of his man- 
ufacture remains to augment the wealth and conve- 
nience of the family. I shall, therefore, be the poorer 
for this fiddling man, unless the rest of my family 
work more, or eat less, to make up the deficiency he 
occasions. 



franklin's essays. 275 

Look around the world and see the millions em- 
ployed in doing nothing, or something that amounts 
to nothing, when the necessaries and conveniences of 
life are in question. What is the bulk of commerce, 
for which we fight and destroy each other, but the 
toil of millions for superfluities, to the great hazard and 
loss of many lives, by the constant danger of the sea ? 
How much labor is spent in building and fitting great 
ships, to go to China and Arabia for tea and coffee, 
to the West Indies for sugar, to America for tobacco f 
These things cannot be f.alled the necessaries of life, 
for our ancestors lived very comfortably without them. 

A question may be asked — Could all these people 
now employed in raising, making, or carrying super- 
fluities, be subsisted by raising necessaries? I think 
they might. The world is large, and a great part of 
it still uncultivated. Many hundred millions of acres 
in Asia, Africa, and America, are still in a forest; and 
a great deal even in Europe. On a hundred acres of 
this forest a man might become a substantial farmer ; 
and a hundred thousand men employed in clearing 
each his hundred acres, would hardly brighten a spot 
large enough to be visible from the moon, unless with 
Herschel's telescope ; so vast are the regions still in 
wood. 

It is, however, some comfort to reflect that, upon the 
whole, the quantity of industry and prudence among 
mankind exceeds the quantity of idleness and folly. 
Hence the increase of good buildings, farms cultivated, 
and populous cities filled with wealth, all over Europe, 
which a few ages since were only to be found on the 
coast of the Mediterranean ; and this, notwithstanding 
the mad wars continually raging, by which are often 
destroyed, in one year, the works of many years' 
peace. So that we may hope, the luxury of a few 
merchants on the coast will not be the ruin of America. 

One reflection more, and I will end this long, ram- 
bling letter. Almost all the parts of our bodies re- 
quire some expense. The feet demand shoes; the legs 
stockings; the rest of the body clothing ; and the belly 
a good deal of victuals. Our eyes, though exceedingly 
nseful, ask, when reasonable, only the cheap assistaucf 



276 franklin's essays. 

of spectacles, which could not much impair our finan- 
ces. But the eyes of other people are the eyes that 
ruin us. K all but myself were blind, I should want 
neither fine clothes, fine houses, nor fine furniture. 



REMARKS CONCERNING THE SAVAGES 
OF NORTH AMERICA- 
SAVAGES we call them, because their manners differ 
from ours, which we think the perfection of civility ; 
they think the same of theirs. 

Perhaps, if we could examine the manners of differ- 
ent nations with impartiality, we should find no peo- 
ple so rude as to be without any rules of politeness; 
nor any so polite as not to have some remains of rudeness. 
The Indian men, when young, are hunters and war^ 
riors; when old, counselors ; for all their government 
is by the counsel or advice of the sages ; there is no 
force, there are no prisons, no officers to compel obedi- 
ence, or inflict punishment. Hence they generally 
study oratory ; the best speaker having the most influ- 
ence. The Indian women till the ground, dress the 
food, nurse and bring up the children, and preserve, 
and hand down to posterity the memory of public 
transactions. These employments of men and women 
are accounted natural and honorable. Having few ar- 
tificial wants, they have abundance of leisure for im- 
provement in conversation. Our laborious manner of 
life, compared with theirs, they esteem slavish and 
base ; and the learning on which we value ourselves, 
they regard as frivolous and useless. An instance of 
this occurred at the treaty of Lancaster, in Pennsylva- 
nia, anno 1744, between the government of Virginia 
and the Six Nations. After the principal business waa 
settled, the commissioners from Virginia acquainted 
the Indiana by a speech, that there was at Williams- 
burg a college, with a fund, for educating Indian 
youth ; and that if the chiefs of the Six Nations would 
send down half a dozen ol* their sous to that eolleg€^ 



franklin's essays. 277 

the government would take care that they should be 
well provided for, and instructed in all the learning of 
the white people. It is one of the Indian rules of po- 
liteness not to answer a public proposition the same 
day that it is made ; they think that it would be treat- 
ing it as a light matter, and they show it respect by 
taking time to consider it, as of a matter inportant. 
They therefore deferred their answer till the day fol- 
lowing; when their speaker began by expressing their 
deep sense of the kindness of the Virginia government, 
in making them that offer ; " For we know," says he, 
" that you highly esteem the kind of learning taught 
in those colleges, and that the maintenance of our 
young men while with you, would be very expensive 
to you. We are convinced, therefore, that you mean 
to do us good by your proposal; and we thank you 
heartily. But you, who are wise, must know, that dif- 
ferent nations have different conceptions of things ; 
and you will therefore not take it amiss, if our ideas of 
this kind of education happen not to be the same with 
yours. We have had some experience of it ; several of 
our young people were formerly brought up at the col- 
leges of the northern provinces ; they were instructed 
in all your sciences ; but when they came back to us 
they were bad runners; ignorant of every means of 
living in the woods ; unable to bear either cold or hun- 
ger; knew neither how to build a cabin, take a deer, 
or kill an enemy ; spoke our language imperfectly ; 
were therefore neither fit for hunters, warriors, nor 
counselors; they were totally good for nothing. We 
are not, however, the less obliged by your kind offer, 
though we decline accepting it; and to show our grate- 
ful sense of it, if the gentlemen of Virginia will send u« 
a dozen of their sons, we will take great care of their 
education, instruct them in all we know, and make 
men of them." 

Having frequent occasions to hold public counsels, 
they have acquired great order and decency in con- 
ducting them. The old men sit in the foremost ranks, 
the warriors in tlae next, and the women and children 
in the hindmost. The business of the women is to tak« 
exact notice of what passes, imprint it in their memo- 



278 franklin's essays. 

ries, for they have no writing, and communicate it to 
the children. They are the records of the council, and 
they preserve tradition of the stipulations in treaties a 
hundred years back ; which, when we compare with 
our writings, we always find exact He that would 
epeak, rises. The rest observe a profound silence. 
When he has finished, and aits down, they leave him 
five or six minutes to recollect, that if he nas omitted 
anything he intended to say, or has anything to add, 
he may rise again and deliver it. To interrupt another, 
even in common conversation, is reckoned highly inde- 
cent. How different this is from the conduct of a po- 
lite British house of commons, where scarce a day 
E asses without some confusion, that makes the speaker 
oarse in calling to order ; and how difi^erent from the 
mode of conversation, in many polite companies of 
Europe, where, if you do not deliver your sentences 
with great rapidity, you are cut off in the middle of it 
by the impatient loquacity of those you converse with, 
and never suffered to finish it ! 

The politeness of these savages in conversation is in- 
deed carried to excess ; since it does not permit them 
to contradict or deny the truth of what is asserted in 
their presence. By this means they indeed avoid dis- 
putes; but then it becomes difficult to know their minds, 
or what impression you make upon them. The mis 
sionaries, who have attempted to convert them to 
Christianity, all complain of this as one of the great 
difficulties of their mission. The Indians hear with 
patience the truths of the Gospel explained to them, 
and give their usual tokens of assent and approbation ; 
you would think they were convinced. No such mat- 
ter — it is mere civiUty. 

A Swedish minister, having assembled the chiefs of 
the Susquehannah Indiam^ made a sermon to them, ac- 
quainting them with the principal historical facts on 
which our religion is founded ; such as the fall of our 
first parents by eating an apple ; the coming of Christ 
to repair the mischief; his miracles, and sufferings, 
<bc When he had finished, an Indian orator stood up 
to thank him. "What you have told us," says he, " i» 
all very good. It is indeed bad to eat apples. It ii 



franklin's essays. 270 

better, to make them all into cider. We are much 
obliged by your kindness in coming so far to tell na 
those things which yon have heard from your mothers. 
In return, I will tell you some of those which we have 
heard from ours. 

"In the beginning, our fathers had only the flesh of 
animals to subsist on ; and if their hunting was unsuc- 
cessful, they were starving. Two of our young hunt- 
ers having killed a deer, made a fire in the woods to 
broil some parts of it. When they were about to sat- 
isfy their hunger, they beheld a beautiful young wo- 
man descend from the clouds, and seat herself on that 
hill which you see yonder among the blue mountains. 
They said to each other, it is a spirit that perhaps 
smelt our broiled venison, and wishes to eat of it ; let 
us offer some to her. They presented her with the 
tongue ; she was pleased with the taste of it, and said, 
*Your kindness shall be rewarded. Come to this 
place after thirteen moons, and you shall find some- 
thing that will be of great benefit in nourishing you 
and your children to the latest generation.* They did 
so, and to their surprise, found plants they had never 
seen before ; but which, from that ancient time, have 
been constantly cultivated among us, to our great ad- 
vantage. Where her right hand had touched the 
ground, they found maize — where her left hand had 
touched it, they found kidney-beans ; and where her 
backside had sat on it, they found tobacco." The good 
missionary, disgusted with this idle tale, said, " What 
I delivered to you were sacred truths ; but what you 
tell me is mere fable, fiction, and falsehood." The In- 
dian, offended, replied, "My brother, it seems your 
friends have not done you justice in your education ; 
they have not well instructed you in the rules of com- 
mon civility. You see that we, who understand and 
practice those rules, believed all your stories; why do 
you refuse to believe ours ? 

"When any of them come into your towns, your 
people are apt to crowd round them, gaze upon them, 
and incommode them where they desire to be private ; 
this they esteem great rudeness, and the effect of the 
want oi instruction in the rules of civility and good 



280 FRANKLINS ESSAiA 

manners. *"We have,' say they, 'as much curiosity 
as yon, and when you come into our towns, we wisn 
for opportunities for looking at you ; but for this pur 
pose we hide ourselves behind bushes, where yon are 
to pass, and never intrude ourselves into your com 
pany.' " 

Their manner of entering one another's villages hat 
likewise its rules. It is reckoned uncivil in traveling 
strangers to enter a village abruptly, without giving 
notice of their approach. Therefore, as soon as they 
arrive within hearing, they stop and halloo, remaining 
there till invited to enter. Two old men usually come 
out to them, and lead them in. There is in every vil- 
lage a vacant dwelling, called the stranger's house. 
Here they are placed, while the old men go round 
from hut to hut, acquainting the inhabitants that stran- 
gers are arrived, who are probably hungry and weary, 
and every one sends them what he can spare of vict- 
uals, and skins to repose on. "When the strangers are 
refreshed, pipes and tobacco are brought; and then, 
but not before, conversation begins, with inquiries who 
they are, whither bound, what news, <fec., and it usu- 
ally ends with offers of service, if the strangers have 
occasion for guides, or any necessaries for continuing 
their journey ; and nothing is exacted for the enter- 
tainment. 

The same hospitality, esteemed among them as a 
principal virtue, is practiced by private persons ; of 
which, Conrad WeiseVy our interpreter, gave me the 
following instance. He had been naturalized among 
the Six Nations, and spoke well the Mohock language. 
In going through the Indian country to carry a mes- 
sage from our governor to the council at Onondaga, he 
called at the habitation of Canassettego, an old acquaint- 
ance, who embraced him, spread furs for him to sit on, 
placed before him some boiled beans and venison, and 
mixed some rum and water for his drink. When he 
was well refreshed, and had lit his pipe, Oanassettego 
began to converse with him ; asked him how he had 
fared the many years since they had seen each other, 
whence he then came, what occasioned the journey, 
dtc. Conrad answered all his questions; and when 



FRANKLIN S ESSAYS. 281 

the disoonrse began to flag, the Indian, to continne it^ 
•aid-^ . 

" Conrad, you have lived long among the white peo- 
ple, and know something of their customs. I have 
been sometimes at Albany, and have observed, that 
once in seven days they shut up their shops and a»> 
semble all in the great house; tell me what it is fori 
What do they do there?" "They meet there," says 
Conrad, " to hear and learn good thingsJ'^ " I do not 
doubt," says the Indian, " that they tell you so ; they 
have told me the same ; but I doubt the truth of what 
they say, and I will tell you my reasons. I went 
lately to Albany to sell my skins, and buy blankets, 
knives, powder, rum, <fec You know I used generally 
to deal with Hans Hanson ; but I was a little inclined 
this time to try some other merchants. However, I 
called first upon Hans, and asked him what he would 
give for beaver. He said he could not give more than 
four shillings a pound ; but said he, I cannot talk on 
business now ; this is the day when we meet together 
to learn good things^ and I am going to the meeting. 
So I thought to myself, since I cannot do any business 
to-day, I may as well go to the meeting too, and I went 
with him. There stood up a man in black, and began 
to talk to the people very angrily. I did not under- 
stand what he said; but perceiving that he looked 
much at me and at Hanson, I imagined that he was an- 
gry at seeing me there ; so I went out, sat down near 
the house, struck fire, and lit my pipe, waiting till the 
meeting should break up. I thought, too, that the man 
had mentioned something of beaver; and I suspected 
it might be the subject of their meeting. So when 
they came out, I accosted my merchant, 'Well, Hans, 
(says I,) I hope you have agreed to give more than four 
shillings a pound.' * No,* says he, *I cannot give so 
much ; I cannot give more than tliree shillings and 
sixpence.* I then spoke to several other dealers, but 
they all sung the same song, three and sixpence, three 
and sixpence. This made it clear to me that my su»» 
picion was right ; and that, whatever they pretended 
of meeting to learn good things, the real purpose wu 
to consult how to cheat Indians in the price of beaver. 



282 franklin's essays. 

Consider but a little, Conrad, and you must be of my 
opinion. If they met so often to learn good things, 
they would certainly have learned some before this 
time. But they are still ignorant. You know our 
practice : If a white man, in traveling through our 
country, enters one of our cabins, we all treat him as I 
do you ; we dry him if he is wet, we warm him if he 
is cold, and give him meat and drink, that he may al- 
lay his thirst and hunger ; and we spread soft furs for 
him to rest and sleep on ; we demand nothing in re- 
turn.* But if I go into a white man's house at Albany, 
and ask for victuals and drink, they say, "Where is your 
money I And if I have none, they say. Get out you 
Indian dog. You see that they have not learned those 
little good things that we need no meetings to be in- 
structed in, because our mothers taught them us when 
we were children ; and therefore it is impossible their 
meetings should be, as they say, for any such purpose, 
or have any such effect ; the^ are only to contrive the 
cheating of Indians in the price of beaver." 



POSITIONS TO BE EXAMINED. 

1. All food, or Bubsistence for mankind, arises from 
the earth or waters. 

2. Necessaries of life that are not foods, and all 
other conveniences, have their value estimated by the 
proportion of food consumed while we are employed in 
procuring them. 

3. A small people with a large territory, may subsist 

* It Is remarkable that In all ages and coantrlee, hospitality haa 
been allowed as the virtue of those, whom the civilized wero pleased 
to call barbarians; the Greek* celebrated the Scythians tor it; the 
Saracens possessed it eminently ; and it is to this day tlu^ reigning 
virtue of the wild Arabs. 8L Paul, too, in the relation of his voy- 
age and shipwreck, on the Island of Melita, says, "The barbarous 
people showed us no little kindness ; for they kJLndled a fire, and re- 
ceived us every one, because of the present rain, and becau>e of the 
cold." This note is taken from a small collection of Franklin's pa- 
pers printed for Dilly. 



frankijn's essays. 283 

on the pw)dtictions of Feature, with no other labor than 
that of gathering tb« vegetables and catching the 
animals. 

4. A large people, >rith a small territory, find these 
insnABcient; and, to subsist, must labor the earth, to 
make it produce gr«4iter quantities of vegetable food, 
suitable to the nourishment of men, and of the animals 
they intend to eat. 

5. From this labor arises a great increase of vegeta- 
ble and animal food, and of materials for clothing ; as 
flax, wool, silk, «kc. The superfluity of these is wealth. 
With this wealth we pay for the labor employed in 
building our houses, cities, Ac, which are therefore 
only subsistence thus metamorphosed. 

6. Manufactures are only another shape into which 
so much provisions and subsistence are turned, as were 
in value equal to the manufactures produced. It ap 
pears from hence, that the manufacturer does not, in 
fact, obtain from the employer, for his labor, more than 
a mere subaistence, including raiment, fuel, and shel- 
ter — all of which derive their value from the provis- 
ions consumed in procuring them. 

7. The produce of the earth, thus converted into 
manufactures, may be more easily carried into distant 
market*, than before such conversion. 

8. Fair commerce is where equal values are exchanged 
for equal, the expense of transport included. Thus, 
if it cost A in England as much labor and charge to 
raise a bushel of wheat, as it cost B in France to pro- 
duce four gallons of wine, then are four gallons of 
wine the fair exchange for a bushel of wheat — A and 
B meeting at a half distance with commodities to make 
the exchange. The advantage of this fair commerce 
is, that each party increases the number of his enjoy- 
ments, having, instead of wheat alone, or wine alone, 

' the use of both wheat and wine. 

9. Where the labor and expense of producing both 
commodities are known to both parties, bargains will 
generally be fair and equal. Where they are known 
t»» one party only, bargains will often be unequal — 
knowledge taking its advantage of ignorance. 

10. Thus he that carries a thousand bushels of wheat 



284s franklin's essays. 

abroad to sell, may not probably make so great m 
profit thereon as if he had nrst turned the wheat into 
manufactures, by subsisting therewith the workmen 
while producing those manufactures, since there are 
many expediting and facilitating methods of working, 
not generally known ; and strangers to the manufac- 
tures, though they know pretty well the expense of 
raising wheat, are unacquainted with those short meth- 
ods of working; and thence, being apt to suppose 
more labor employed in the manufacture than there 
really is, are more easily imposed on in their value, 
and induced to allow more for them than they are hon- 
estly worth. 

11. Thus the advantage of having manufactures in a 
country does not consist, as is commonly supposed, in 
their highly advancing the value of rough materials of 
wliich they are formed, since, though sixpenny worth 
of flax may be worth twenty shillings when worked 
into lace, yet the very cause of its being worth twenty 
shillings is that, besides the flax, it has cost nineteen 
shillings and sixpence in subsistence to the manufac- 
turer. But the advantage of manufactures is, that un- 
der their shape, provisions may be more easily carried 
to a foreign market ; and by their means our traders 
may more easily cheat strangers. Few, where it is 
not made, are judges of the value of lace. The im- 
porter may demand forty, and perhaps get thirty shil- 
lings for that which cost him but twenty. 

12. Finally, there seems to be but three ways for a 
nation to acquire wealth. The first is by war, as the 
Romans did, in plundering their conquered neighbors ; 
this is robbery. The second by commerce, which is 
generally cheating. The third by agriculture, the 
only honest way, wherein a man receives a real in 
crease of the seed thrown into the ground, in a kind of 
continual miracle, wrought by the hand of God in hig 
favor, as a reward for his innocent life and his virtuoui 
industry. 

F&ANKLOr. 



frakbuk'b essays. 285 

PRELIMINARY ADDRESS 

TO THE PENNSYLVANIA ALMANAC, 
sKirrucD, ** POOR riohaed's almanac, for the ybar 17^8.*' 

I HAYS heard that nothing gives an author so much 
pleasure as to find his works respectfully quoted by 
other learned authors. This pleasure I have seldom 
enjoyed; for though I have been, if I may say it with- 
out vanity, an eminent author (of almanacs) annually, 
now a full quarter of a century, my brother authors in 
the same way, (for what reason I know not,) have ever 
\^^eu very sparing in their applauses ; and no other 
author has taken the least notice of me; so that, did 
not my writings produce me some solid pudding, the 
great deficiency of praise would have quite discour- 
aged me. 

I concluded, at length, that the people were the best 
judges of my merit, for they buy my works ; and be- 
sides, in my rambles, where I am not personally known, 
I have frequently heard one and another of my adages 
repeated, with ** As Poor Richard says," at the end on*t. 
This gave me some satisfaction, as it showed not only 
that my instructions were regarded, but discovered 
likewise some respect for my authority ; and I own, 
that to encourage the practice of remembering and re- 
peating those wise sentences, I have sometimes quoted 
myself with great gravity. 

Judge, then, how much I have been gratified by an 
incident which I am going to relate to yoxL I stopped 
my horse lately, where a great number of people were 
collected at an auction of merchants' goods. The hour 
of sale not being come, they were conversing on the 
badness of the times ; and one of the company called 
to a plain, clean old man, with white locks, " Pray, 
Father Abraham, what think ye of the times f Won't 
these heavy taxes quite ruin the country f How shall 
we ever be able to pay them I What would you ad 



286 frao-^klin^s essays. 

vise us to?" Fathir Abraham stood up and rrpllecr, 
"If you'd have my liivice, Fll give it to you in short ; 
* for a word to the wise is enough ; and many words 
won't fill a bushel,* as Poor Richard says. They 
joined in desiring him to speak his mind ; and gather* 
mg round him, he proceeded as follows : 

" Friends (says he) and neighbors, the taxes are in- 
deed very heavy; and if those laid on by government 
were the only ones we had to pay, we might more ea- 
sily discharge them, but we have many others, and 
much more grievous to some of us. We are taxed 
twice as much by our idleness, three times as much by 
our pride, and four times as much by our folly, and 
from these taxes the commissioners cannot ease or de- 
liver us, by allowing an abatement. However, let ns 
hearken to good advice, and something may be done 
for us. * God helps them that help themselves,' a« 
Poor Richard says in his almanac. 

" It would be thought a hard government that should 
tax its people one-tenth part of their time, to be em- 
ployed in its service ; but idleness taxes many of us 
much more, if we reckon all that is spent in absolute 
sloth, or doing of nothing, with that which is spent in 
idle employments, or amusements that amount to noth- 
ing. Sloth, by bringing on diseases, absolutely short- 
ens life. * Sloth, like rust, consumes faster than labor 
wears, while the key often used is always bright,* as 
Poor Richard says. * But dost thou love life ? then do 
not squander time, for that's the stuflf life is made of,* 
as Poor Richard says. How much more than is neces- 
sary do we spend in sleep, forgetting that *the sleeping 
fox catches no poultry, and that there will be sleeping 
enough in the grave,' as Poor Richard says. * If time 
be of all things the most precious, wasting time must 
be (as Poor Richard says) the greatest prodigality ; ' 
since, as he elsewhere tells us, "Lost time is never 
found again ; and what we call time enough, always 
proves little enough.' Let us then up and be doing, 
and doing to the purpose ; so by diligence shall we do 
more with less perplexity. * Sloth makes all things 
difficult, but industry all easy,' as Poor Richard says ; 
and 'he that riseth late must trot all day, and shall 



franklin's essays. 287 

scarce overtake his business at night; while lazinesa 
travels 80 slowly, that poverty soon overtakes him,' 
as we read in Poor Richard ; who adds, * Drive thy 
business, let not that drive thee ; ' and, * early to beo, 
and early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and 
wise.* 

** So what signifies wishing and hoping for better 
times I We make these times better if we bestir our- 
selves. 'Industry needs not wish,' as Poor Richard 
says ; and " He that lives upon hope will die fasting.* 
* There are no gains without pains ; then help hands, 
for I have no lands; or if I have, they are smartly 
taxed; * and, (as Poor Richard likewise observes,) 'He 
that hath a trade, hath an estate, and he that hath a 
calling hath an office of profit and honor ; * but then 
the trade must be worked at, and the calling well fol- 
lowed, or neither the estate nor the office will enable 
us to pay our taxes. If we are industrious we shall 
never starve ; for, as Poor Richard says, ' At the work- 
ingman's house hunger looks in, but dare not enter.* 
Kor will the bailiff or the constable enter ; for, * Indus- 
try pays debts, but despair increaseth them,' says Poor 
Richard. What thougn you have found no treasure, 
nor has any rich relation left you a legacy? 'Dili- 
gence is the mother of good luck,* as Poor Richard 
says ; and * God gives all things to industry ; then 
plow deep while sluggards sleep, and you will have 
corn to sell and keep,' says Poor Dick. Work while it 
is called to-day; for you know not how much you 
may be hindered to-morrow ; which makes Poor Rich- 
ard say, *One to-day is worth two to-morrows; ' and 
farther, * Have you somewhat to do to-morrow, do it 
to-day.' ' If you were a servant^ would you not be 
ashamed that a good master should catch you idle t 
Are you then your own master, be ashamed to catch 
yourself idle,* as Poor Dick says. When there is so 
much to be done for yourself, your family, and your 
gracious king, be up by peep of day ; * Let not the sun 
look down, and say. Inglorious here he lies ! ' ' Handle 
your tools without mittens ; * remember, that * the cat 
in gloves catches no mice,' as Poor Richard says. U is 
true, there is much to be done, and perhaps you are 



288 franklin's essays. 

weak-handed ; but stick to it steadily and you will see 
great eflfects; for, * continual dropping wears away 
stones, and by diligence and patience the mouse ate 
into the cable, and light strokes fell great oaks,* as Poor 
Richard says in his almanac, the year I cannot just 
now remember. 

" Methinks I hear some of you say, * Must a man af- 
ford himself no leisure ? * — ^I will tell thee, my friend, 
what Poor Richard says; 'Employ thy time well, if 
thou meanest to gain leisure; and since thou art not 
sure of a minute, throw not away an hour.' Leisure 
is time for doing something useful : this leisure the dili- 
gent man will obtain, but the lazy man never ; so that, 
as Poor Richard says, *A life of leisure and a life of 
laziness are two things.' Do you imagine that sloth 
will afford you more comfort than labor f No ; for, as 
Poor Richard says, 'Troubles spring from idleness, and 
grievous toils from needless ease : many without labor 
would live by their own wits only ; but they break for 
want of stock.' Whereas industry gives comfort, and 
plenty, and respect. *Fly pleasures, and they'll fol- 
low you ; the diligent spinner has a large shift ; and, 
now I have a sheep and cow, everybody bids me good- 
morrow ; ' all which is well said by Poor Richard. 

" But with our industry, we must likewise be steady 
and settled and careful, and oversee our own affairs 
with our own eyes, and not trust too much to othen; 
for, as Poor Richard says, 

* I never saw an oft-removed tree^ 
Nor yet an oft-removed family. 
That throve so well as one that settled bei* 

"And again, 'Three removes are as bad as a fire ; ' and 
again, *Keep thy shop and thy shop will keep thee;' 
and again, * If you would have your business done, go; 
if not, send.' And again, 

* He that by the plew would thrive^ 
Himself most either hold or drive.* 

And again, 'The eye of the master will do more work 
than both his hands ; ' and again, ' Want of care doet 



ESSAYS. 289 

a» more damage than want of knowldege ; ' and again, 
'Not to oversee workmen, is to leave them your purse 
open ! ' Trusting too much to others' care, is the ruin 
of many; for, as the almanac says, in the affairs of the 
world, * Men are saved not by faith, but by the want 
of it ; but a man's own care is profitable; for, saith 
Poor Dick, * Learning is to the studious, and riches to 
the careful, as well as power to the bold, and heaven 
to the virtuous.' And farther, 'If you would have a 
faithful servant, and one that you like, serve yourself 
And again, he adviseth to circumspection and care, 
even in the smallest matters, because sometimes, 'A 
little neglect ma}' breed great mischief; ' adding, 'For 
want of a nail the shoe was lost ; for want of a shoe 
the horse was lost ; and for want of a horse the rider 
wa:^ lost; being overtaken and slain by the enemy— all 
foi vzant of care about a horse-shoe nail.' 

"So much for industr}', my friends, and attention tc^ 
one's own business; but to these we must add frugal- 
ity, if we would make our iniustry more certainly suc- 
CfcSciQl. A man may, if he knows not how to save a^ 
he ^ets, ' keep his nose all his life to the grindstone, 
an^ die not worth a groat at last.' ' A fat kitchen 
maies a lean will,' as Poor Richard sa3's, and 

' Many estates M-e spent in the getting ; 
Since -women for tea forsook spinning and knitting, 
And men for punch forsook hewing and splitting.' 

" ' If you would be wealthy, (says he, in another al 
manac) think of saving as well as getting : the Indies 
have not made Spain rich, because her outgoes are 
greater than her incomes.' 

"Away then with your expensive follies, and you 
wiU not have much cause to complain of hard timea, 
heavy taxes, and chargeable families ; for, as Poor Dick 
Baya, 

♦ Women &nd wine, game and deceit 
ii&ke the wealth small, and the want great* 

''And, farther, *What maintains one vice wou^d 
bring up two children.' You may think, perhaps, 
that a little tea or a little punch now and then, diet a 
19 Franklin 



290 franklin's essays 

UtLle more costly, clothes a little finer, and a little en 
tertainment now and then, can be no great matter; but 
remember what Poor Richard sa3's, * Many a little 
makes a meikle ; ' and, farther, 'Beware of little ex- 
pense; a small leak will sink a great ship;' and again, 
'Who dainties love shall beggars prove*' and more- 
over, ' Fools make feasts, and wise men eat them.' 

"Here you are all got together at this sale of fine 
ries and nicknacks. You call them goods; but if you 
do not take care, they will prove evils to some of you. 
You expect they will be sold cheap, and perhaps they 
may for less than they cost ; but if you have no occa 
sion for them they must be dear to you. Remember 
what Poor Richard says, 'Buy what thou hast no need 
of, and erelong thou shalt sell thy necessaries.' And 
again, *At a great pennyworth, pause awhile.' He 
means, that perhaps the cheapness is apparent only, or 
not real ; or the bargain, by straitening thee in thy 
business, may do thee more harm than good. For in 
another place he says, 'Many have been ruined by 
buying good pennyworths.' Again, as Poor Richard 
says, * It is foolish to lay out money in a purchase of 
repentance/ and yet this folly is practiced evey day at 
auctions, for want of minding the almanac. * Wise 
men (as Poor Dick saj's) learn by others' harms, fools 
scarcely by their own ; but Felix qiiera factunt aliena 
pericula cautum.' Many a one for the ?ake of finery 
on the back, have gone with a hungry belly, and half 
starved their families: 'Silks and satins, scarlet and 
velvets, (as Poor Richard says,) put out the kitchen 
fire. These are not the necessaries of life : they can 
scarcely be called the conveniences ; and yet only be 
cause they look pretty, how many want to have them ? 
The artificial wants of mankind thus become more nu 
mef ous than the natural ; and, as Poor Dick says, * For 
one poor person there are a hundred indigent' By 
these and other extravagances, the genteel are reduced 
to poverty, and forced to borrow of those whom they 
formerly despised, but who, through industry and fru 
gality, nave maintained their standing ; in which case, 
it appears plainly, ' A plowman on his legs is higher 
than a gentleman on his knees,' as Poor Richard says 



franklin's essays. 291 

Pernap3 they have nad & small estate left tbem, wflich 
they knew not the getting of; they think, 'It is day, 
and will never be night*/ that a little to be spent out 
of sc much is not worth minding : 'A child and a foci 
(as Poor Richard says) imagine twenty shillings and 
twenty years can never be spent ; but always be ta- 
king out of the meal-tub and never be putting in, soon 
3ome9 to the bottom;' then, as Poor Dick says, 'When 
ohe well is dry^ they know the worth of water/ But 
this they might have known before, if they had taken 
his advice. ' If you would know the value of money^ 
go and try to borrow some ; for he that goes a-borrow- 
ing goes a -sorrowing; and, indeed, so does he that 
lends to such people, when he goes to get it again.' 
Poor Dick farther advises, and says, 

* Fond pride of dress is sure a very our8« ; 
Eie fancy you consult, consult your purse' 

And again, * Pride is as loud a beggar as Want, and a 

treat deal more saucy * When you have bought one 
ne thing, you must buy ten more, that your appear- 
ance may be all of a piece ; but Poor Dick says, ' It is 
easier to suppress the first desire than to satisfy all 
that follow it.' And, it is as truly folly for the poor to 
ape the rich, as the frog to swell, in order to equal th« 
ox. 

* Vosftels large may venture more, 

But little boats should keep near abor«. 

*Ti8, however, a folly soon punished; for, * Pride that 
dinea on vanity, sups on contempt,' as Poor Richard 
says. And, in another place, * Pride breakfasted with 
Plenty, dined with Poverty, and supped with Infamy.' 
And after all of what use is this pride of appearanofc 
for which so much is risked, so much is suffered f It 
cannot promote health, or ease pain ; it makes no in- 
crease of merit in the person; it creates qhtj; i% 
hastens ulisfortune. 

♦ WhAt Is a butterfly ? at I>e8t, 
He's but a oater[»iiiar (ireas'd ; 
The gaudy fop's his picture just." 

«• Poor Richard says. 



292 FRANKLIN S ESSAYS. 

"But what madness must it be to run in debt for 
those superfluities : we are offered by the terms of this 
sale six months credit, and that perhaps has induced 
some of us to attend it, because we cannot spare the 
ready money, and hope now to be fine without it. 
But ah I think what you do when you run in debt 
You give to another p</wer over your liberty. If you 
cannot pay at the time, yDU will be ashamed to see 
your creditor : you will be in fear when you speak to 
him; you will make poor, pitiful, sneaking excuses, 
and by degrees come to lose your veracity, and sink 
into base, downright lying ; for as Poor Richard Sc,ys, 
*The second vice is lying ; the first is running in debt^' 
And again, to the same purpose, ' Lying rides upon 
debt's back;' whereas a freeborn Englishman ought 
not to be ashamed nor afraid to speak to any man liv- 
ing. But poverty often deprives a man of all spirit 
and virtue : ' It is hard for an empty bag to stand up- 
right,* as Poor Richard truly says. What would you 
think of that prince, or that government, who would 
issue an edict, forbidding you to dress like a gentle- 
man or a gentlewoman, on pain of imprisonment or 
servitude ? would you not say that you were free, have 
a right to dress as you please, and that such &n edict 
would be a breach of your privileges, and such a gov- 
ernment tyrannical ? And yet you are a.bout to put 
yourself under that tyranny when you run in debt for 
such dress ! Your creditor has authority at his pleas- 
ure, to deprive you of your liberty, by confinii>g you 
in jail, for life, or by selling you for a servant, if you 
should not be able to pay him. When you have got 
your bargain, you may, perhaps, think little of pay- 
ment ; but, * Creditors (Poor Richard tells us) have bet- 
ter memories than debtors ; ' and in another place h^ 
says, * Creditors are a superstitious sect, great observ- 
ers of set days and times.' The day comes round be- 
fore you are aware, and the demand is made before 
you are prepared to satisfy it. Or if you bear your 
debt in mind, the term which at first seemed sc long, 
will, as it lessens, appear extremely short. Time will 
seem to have added wings to his heels as well as at 
hiA shoulders. ' Those have a short Lent (saith Poor 



franklin's essays. 293 

Richard) who owe money to be paid at Easter.' Then 
since; as he says, • The borrower is a slave to the lend- 
er, and the debtor to the creditor;* disdain the chain, 
preserve your freedom, and maintain your independ- 
ency: be industrious and free; be frugal and free. At 
present, perhaps, you may think yourselves in thriving 
circumstances, and that you can bear a little extrava- 
gance without injury ; but 

* For age and want save while you may, 
No morning sun lasts a whole day,' 

as Poor Richard says. Gain may be temporary and 
uncertain ; but ever, while you live, expense is con- 
stant and certain; and 'it is easier to build two chim- 
neys, than to keep one in fuel,* as Poor Richard says. 
So 'Rather go to bed supperless than rise in debt.* 

*Get what y u can, and what you get hold, 
'Tis the stone that will turn all your lead into gold,' 

as Poor Richard says. And when you have got the 
philosopher's stone, sure you will no longer complain 
of bad times, or the difficulty of paying taxes. 

"This doctrine, my friends, is reason and wisdom : 
but after all, do not depend too much upon your own 
industry, and frugality, and prudence, though excel- 
lent things; for they may be blasted without the 
blessing of Heaven: and therefore ask that blessing 
humbly, and be not uncharitable to those that at pres- 
ent seem to want it, but comfort and help them. Re- 
member Job suffered, and was afterwards prosperous. 

"And now, to conclude, 'Experience keeps a dear 
school ; but fools will learn in no othc^r, and scarce in 
that; for it is true, we may orive advice, but we cannot 
give conduct,' as Poor Richard says. However, re- 
member this, 'They that will not be counseled, can- 
not be helped,' as Poor Richard says ; and, farther,. 
that 'If you will not hear Reason, she will surely rap 
your knuckles.* ** 

Tlius the old gentleman ended his harangue. The 
people heard it and approved the doctrine, and im 
mediately practiced the contrary-, just as if it had been 



294 franklin's essays. 

a common sermon ; for the auction opened, and thej 
began to buy extravagantly, notwithstanding all his 
cautions, and their own fear of taxes. I found the 
good man had thoroughly studied my almanacs, and di- 
gested all I had dropped on these topics, during the 
course of twenty-five y^jars. The frequent mention he 
made of me must have tired every one else ; but my 
vanity was wonderfully delighted with it, though I 
was conscious that not a tenth part of the wisdom was 
my own, which he ascribed to me, but rather the glean- 
ings that I had made of the sense of all ages and na- 
tions. However, I resolved to be the better for the 
echo of it ; and though I had first determined to buy 
stuff for a new coat, I went away, resolved to wear my 
old one a little longer. Header, if thou wilt do the 
same, thy profit will be as great as mine. 
I am, as ever, thine to serve thee. 

Richard Saunders. 



WHITEWASHING. 



HUMOaOUS aOOODKT of a custom among the AMERICANS, 
BNTITLSD WHITEWASHING, ATTRIBUTED TO 
THB PEN OF DR. FRANKLIN. 

Although the foliowing article has not yet appeared 
in any collection of the works of this great philoso- 
pher, we are inclined to receive the general opinion 
(from the plainness of the style, and humor which 
characterize it,) that it is the performance of Dr. 
Franklin. 

My wish is to give you some account of the people 
of these new states, but I am far from being qualified 
for the purpose, having as yet seen little more than the 
cities of New York and Philadelphia. I have discov- 
ered but few national singularities among them. Their 
customs and manners are nearly the same with those 
of England, which they have long been used to copy. 
For previous to the Revolution^ the Ameri-^ana wer# 



FRANKLIN'S ESSAYS. 29t^ 

from their infancy taught to look up to the English as 
pattferns of perfection in all things. I have observed, 
however, one custom, which for aught I know, is pecu- 
liar to this country ; an account of it will serve to fill 
up the remainder of this sheet, and may afford you 
some amusement. 

When a young couple are about to enter into the mat- 
rimonial state, a never failing article in the marriage 
treaty is, that the lady shall have and enjoy the free 
and unmolested exercise of the rights of whitewashing^ 
with all its ceremonials, privileges and appurtenances. 
A young woman '"ould forego the most advantageous 
connection, and even disappoint the warmest wishes of 
her heart, rather i^han resign the invaluable right. 
You will wonder what this privilege of whitevjoshing 
is : I will endeavor to give you some idea of the cere- 
mony, as I have seen it performed. 

There is no season of the year in wnich the lady may 
not claim her privilege, if she pleases ; but the latter 
end of May is most generally fixed upon for the pur- 
pose. The attentive husband may judge by certain 
prognostics when the storm is nigh at hand. When 
the lady is unusually fretful, finds fault with the ser- 
vanus, is discontented with the children, and complains 
much of the filthiness of everything about her — these 
are signs which ought not to be neglected ; yet they 
are not decisive, as they sometimes come on and go off 
again without producing any farther effect. But ifi 
when the husband rises in the morning, he should ob- 
serve in the yard a wheelbarrow with a quantity of 
lime in it, or should see certain buckets with lime dis- 
solved in water, there is then no time to be lost ; he 
immediately locks up the apartment or closet, where 
his papers or private property is kept, and putting the 
ey in his pocket, betakes himself to flight ; for a hus- 
band, however beloved, becomes a perfect nuisance du- 
ring this season of female rage ; his authority is super- 
seded, his commission is suspended, and the very scul- 
lion, who cleans the brasses in the kitchen, becomes of 
more consideration and importance than he. He haa 
nothing for it but to abdicate, and run fmm &a %yil 
which he can neither prevent nor mollify. 



296 franklin's essays. 

The husband gone, the ceremony begins. The "walli 
are in a few minutes stripped of their furniture ; 
paiDtings, prints, and looking-glasses lie in a huddled 
heap about the floors, the curtains are torn from the 
testers, the beds crammed into the windows; chairs 
and tables, bedsteads and cradles, crowd the ysLvd ; 
and the garden fence bends beneatli the weight of 
carpets, blankets, cloth, cloaks, old coats, and ragged 
breeches. Here may be seen the lumber of the kitch- 
en, forming a dark and confused mass : for the fore- 
ground of the picture, gridirons and frying-pans, rusty 
shovels and broken tongs, spits and pots, and the frac- 
tured remains of rush-bottomed chairs. There a closet 
has disgorged its bowels — cracked tumblers, broken 
wine glasses, phials of forgotten physic, papers of un- 
known powders, seeds and dried herbs, handfulis of old 
corks, tops of teapots, and stoppers cf departed decant- 
ers ; — from the rag-hole in the garret to the rat-hole ir 
the cellar, no place escapes rnrummaged. It would 
seem as if the day of general doom was come, and the 
utensils of the house were dragged forth to judgment. 
In this tempest the words of Lear naturally present 
themselves, and might with some alteration, be made 
itrict]]^ applicable . 



Let tho gieat gods, 



That keep this dreadful pudder o'er our heads, 
Find out their enemies now. Tremble, thou wretch 
That has within thee, undlvulged crimes, 
tJnwhipt of justice ! " — 

" Close pent up guilt, 

Raise your concealing 3ontinert9, and isk 
These dreadful suramoners grace ! " 

The ceremony completed, and the house thoroughly 
evacuated, the operation is to smear the walls and ceil- 
ings of every room and closet with brushes dipped in 
a solution of lime, called whitewash ; to pour buckets 
of water over every floor ; and scratch all the parti- 
tions and wainscots with rough brushes wet with soap- 
suds, and dipped in stone-cutter's sand. The windows 
by no means escape the general deluge. A servant 
scrambles upon the penthouse, at the risk of her neck, 
and with a mug in her hand, and a bucket within her 



franklin's essays. 29*7 

reach, she dashes away innumerable gallons of water 
agaiust the glass panes, to the great annoyance of the 
passengers in the street. 

I have been told that an action at law was once 
brought against one of these water-nymphs, by a per- 
son who had a new suit of clothes spoiled by this op- 
eration ; but after a long argument, it was determined 
by the whole court, that the action would not lie, in- 
somuch as the defendant was in the exercise of a legal 
right, and not answerable for the consequences ; and so 
the poor gentleman was doubly nonsuited : for he lost 
not only his suit of clothes, but his suit at law. 

These smearings and scratchings, washing and dash- 
ings, being duly performed, the next ceremony is to 
cleanse and replace the distracted furniture. You may 
have seen a house raising, or a ship launch, when all 
the hands within reach are collected together : recol- 
lect, if you can, the hurry, bustle, confusion, and noise 
of such a scene, and you will have some idea of this 
cleaning match. The misfortune is, that the sole ob- 
ject is to make thmgs clean ; it matters not how many 
useful, ornamental, or valuable articles are mutilated, 
or suffer death under the operation : a mahogany chair 
and carved frame undergo the same discipline; they 
are to be made clean at all events; but their preserva- 
tion is not worthy of attention. For instance, a fine 
large engraving is laid flat upon the floor; smaller 
prints are piled upon it, and the superincumbent 
weight cracks ,the glasses of the lower tier, but this ii 
of no consequence. A valuable picture is placed lean- 
ing against the sharp corner of a table; others are 
made to lean against that, until the pressure of the 
whole forces the corner of the table through the can- 
Tas of the first. The frame and glass of a fine print 
are to be cleaned; the spirit and oil used on this occa- 
sion are suffered to leak through and spoil the engrav- 
ing ; no matter, if the glass is clean, ana the frame 
shine, it is suflScient ; the rest is not worthy of a con- 
sideration. An able arithmetician has made an accu- 
rate calculation, founded on long experience, and ha« 
discovered that the losses and destruction incident t^ 



298 franklin's essays. 

two whitewashings are equal to one removal, and three 
removals equal to one fire. 

The cleaning frolic over, matters begin to resume 
their pristine appearance. The storm abates, and all 
would be well again, but it is impossible that so great 
a convulsion, in so small a community, should not pro- 
hice some farther effects. For two or three weeks 
after the operation, the family are usually afl9.icted 
with sore throats or sore eyes, occasioned by the caus- 
tic quality of the lime, or with severe colds from the 
exhalations of wet floors or damp walls. 

I know a gentleman, who was fond of accounting 
for everything in a philosophical way. He considers 
this, which I have called a custon:., as a real periodical 
disease, peculiar to the climate. His train of reason- 
ing is ingenious and whimsical ; but I am not at leisure 
to give you a detail. The result was that he found the 
distemper to be incurable; but after much stud}- he 
conceived he had discovered a method to divert the 
evil he cou^d not subdue. For this purpose he caused 
a small building, about twelve feet square, to be erect- 
ed in his garden, and furnished with some ordinary 
chairs and tables; and a few prints of the cheapest 
port were hung against the walls. His hope. was, that 
T^hen the whitewashing frenzy seized the females of 
his family, they might repair to this apartment, and 
scrub, and smear, and scour, to their heart's content; 
and so spend the violence of the disease in this outpost, 
while he enjoyed himself in quiet at head quarters. 
B ut the experiment did not answer his expectation ; 
■ t was impossible it should, since a principal part of 
the gratification consists in the lady's having an un- 
controlled right to torment her husband at least once a 
year, and to turn him out of doors, and take the reins 
of government into her own hands. 

There is a much better contrivance than this of the 
philosopher's, which is to cover the walls of the house 
with paper: that is generally done ; and though it can- 
not abolish, it at least shortens the period of female 
dominion, "^be paper is decorated with flowers of va- 
rious fanc^ie" atd Tiadij so ornamental, that the womer 



franklin's essays. 299 

have admitted the fashion without perceiving the 
design. 

There is also another alleviation of the husband's 
distress : he generally has the privilege of a small room 
?r closet for his books and papers, the key of which he 
is allowed to keep. This is considered as a privileged 
place, and he stands like the land of Goshen amid the 
plagues of Egypt. But then he must be extremely 
cautious, and ever on his guard ; for should he inad- 
vertently go abroad and leave the key in his door, the 
housemaid, who is always on the watch for such an op- 
portunity, immediately enters in triumph with buckets, 
brooms, and brushes; takes possession of the premises, 
and forthwith puts all his books and papers to rights, to 
his utter confusion, and sometimes serious detriment. 
For instance: 

A gentleman was onee sued by the executors of a 
tradesman, on a charge found against him in the de- 
ceased's books, to the .amount of thirty pounds. The 
defendant was strongly impressed with an idea that he 
had discharged the debt and taken d receipt; but as 
the transaction was of long standing, he knew not 
where to find the receipt. The suit went on in course, 
and the time approached when judgment would be ob- 
tained against him. He then sat seriously down to 
examine a large bundle of old papers, which he had 
untied and displayed on a table for that purpose. In 
the midst of his search, he was suddenly called away 
on business of importance : he forgot to look the door 
of his room. The housemaid, who had been long look 
ing out for such an opportunity, immediately entered 
^-^ith the usual implements, and with great alacrity fell 
to cleaning the room, and putting things to rights. 
The first object that struck her eye was the confused 
situation of the papers on the table; these were with- 
out delay bundled together like so man}- dirty knives' 
and forks; but iu the action a small piece of paper fell 
onnoti-ced on the floor, which happened to be the very 
receipt in question ; as it had no very respectable ap- 
pearance, it was soon after swept out with the common 
dirt of the room, and carried in a rubbish-pan into the 
yard. The tradesman had neglected to enter the credit 



300 FRANKLINS EtSAYS 

in his book; the defendant could find nothing to obri- 
ate the charge, and so the judgment went against him 
for the debt and costs. A fortnight after the whole 
was settled, and the money paid, one of the children 
found the receipt among the rubbish in the yard. 

There is another custom peculiar to the city of Phil- 
adelphia, and nearly allied to the former. I mean that 
of washing the pavement before the doors every Sat- 
urday evening. I at first took this to be a regulation 
of the police ; but, on further inquiry, find it is a re- 
ligious rite, preparatory to the Sabbath : and is, [ be- 
lieve, the only religious rite in which th«i numerous 
sectaries of this city perfectly agree. The ceremony 
begins about sunset, and continues till about ten or 
eleven at night It is very difficult for a stranger to 
walk the streets on those evenings ; be runs a continual 
risk of having a bucket of dirty water thrown against 
his legs ; but a Philadelphian born is so much accus- 
tomed to the danger, that he avoids it with surprising 
dexterity. It is from this circumstance that a Phila- 
delphian may be known anywhere by his gait. The 
streets of JS'ew York are paved with rough stones; 
these indeed are not washed, but the dirt is so thor- 
oughly swept from before the doors, that the stones 
stand ap sharp and prominent, to the great inconve- 
nience of those who are not accustomed to so rough a 
path. But habit reconciles everything. It is divert- 
ing enough to see a Philadelphian at New York ; he 
walks the streets with as much most painful cautioi , 
as if his toes were covered with corns, or his feet lamed 
with the gout; while a New Yorker, as little approving 
the plain masonry of Philadelphia, shuffles along the 
pavement like a parrot on a mahogany table. 

it must be acknowledged, that the ablutions I have 
mentioned are attended with no small inconvenience, 
but the women could not be induced, from any con- 
sideration, to resign their privilege. Notwithstanding 
this, I can give you the strongest asf^urances, that the 
women of America make the most faithful wives and 
the most attentive mothers in the world ; and I am 
9ure you will join me in opinion, that if a married 



franklin's essays. 301 

man is made miserable only one week in a whole year, 
he will have no great cause to complain of the malri 
monial bond. 

I am, ifec. 



ANSWER TO THE FOREGOIXG. 

IN THE CHARACTER OF A LADT, BUT REALLY 3Y THE SAME HAND 

Sir: I have lately seen a letter upon the subject cT 
whitewLsl'.ing, in which that necessary duty cf a good 
housewife Is treated with unmerited ridicule. I s!'Ouid 

Erobably have forgotten the foolish thing by this time ; 
ut the season coming on which most women think 
suitable for cleansing their apartments from sm kt anc' 
dirt of the winter, I find this saucy auilior dished up 
in every family, and his flippant performance quoted 
wherever a wife attempts to exercise her reasonable 
prerogative, or execute the duties of her station. 
Women generally employ their time to better purpose 
than scribbling. The cares and comforts of a family 
rest principally upon their shoulders; hence it is that 
there are but a few female authors ; and the men, know- 
ing how necessary our attentions are to their happi- 
ness, take every opportunity of discouraging litorary 
accomplishments in the fair sex. You hear it echoed 
from every quarter — *My wife cannot make versus, it 
is true; but sh^ makes an excellent pudding;" she 
can't correct the press, but she can correct her children, 
and scold her servants with admirable discretion ; she 
«an't unravel the intricacies "of political economy and 
federal government; but she can knit charming stock-. 
ings." And this they call praising a wife, and doing 
justice to her character, with much nonsense of tlie like 
kind. ' 

I say, women generally employ their time to much 
better purpose than scribbling ; otherwise this face 
tious writer had not gone so long unanswered. We 
bave ladies who sometimes lay down the needle an<^ 



302 franklin's essays. 

take up *^he pen ; I -wonder none of them ha\ e at- 
tempted 8ome reply. For my part, I do not pretend to 
be an author. I have never appeared in print in my 
life, but I can ne longer forbear to say something in 
answer to such impertinence, circulate how it may. 
Only, sir, consider our situation. Men are naturally 
inattentive to the decencies of life ; but why should 1 
be so complaisant? I say they aru naturally filthy 
creatures. If it were not that their connection with 
the refined sex polished their manners, and had a happy 
influence o the general economy of life, these lords of 
creation would wallow in filth, and populous cities 
would infvCt the atmosphere with their noxious vapors. 
It is the attention and assiduity of the women that 
prevent men from degenerating into mere swine. How 
important then are the services we render; and yet for 
these very services we are made the subject of ridicule 
and fun. Base ingratitude ! Nauseous creatures 1 Per- 
haps you may think I am in a passion. No, sir-, I do 
assure you I never was more composed in my life 
and yet it is enough to provoke a saint to see how un 
reasonably we are treated by the inan. Why now, 
there's my haaband — a good enough sort of a man in 
the mf.in — ^but I will give you a sample of him. He 
comes into the parlor the otuer day, where, to be sure, 
I was cutting up a piece of linen. "Lord I " says he, 
'^ wh^it a Gutter here is f 1 can't bear to see the parlor 
look "rise a tailor's shop; besides, I am going to make 
some important philosophical experiments, and must 
have sumoient room I " 

You must know my husband is one of your would 
be philosophers. Well, I bundled up my linen as quick 
as I could, ftnd be^an to darn a pair of ruffles, which 
took no room, and could give no offense. I thought, 
however, I would watch my lord and master's import- 
ant business. In about half an hour the tables were 
covered with all manner of trumpei'y ; bottles of water, 
phials of drugs, pasteboard, paper and cards, gluo, 
paste, and gum-irabic: files, kcives, scissors, needier 
rosin, -wtax, silk, thread, rags, jags, tags, books, pam- 
phlets, and papers. Lord bless me ! I atn almost oui 
o( breatih, »nd yet I hav« not enumerated half th-< at 



franklin's essays. -303 

tides. Well, to work he went, and although I did nol 
understand the object of the manoeuvres, yet I could 
sufficiently discover th«t he did not succeed in any one 
operation. I was glad of that, I confess, and with good 
reason too ; for, after he had fatigued himself with 
mischief, like a monkey in a china stiop, and called the 
servants to clear everything away, I took a view of 
the scene my parlor exhibited- I shall not even attempt 
i minute description; suffice it to say, that he had 
overset his inkstand, and stained my best mahogany 
table with ink ; he had spilt a ""uantity of vitriol, and 
burnt a large hole in my car}v3t : my marble hearth 
was all over apotted with melted rosin : besides this, 
he had broken three china cups, four wine glasses, two 
tumblers, %nd one of my handsomest decanters. .\nd, 
after all, as I said before, I perceived that he had not 
succeeded in any one operation. By the by, tell your 
friend, the whitewash scribbler, that this is one iLeans 
by which our closets become furnished with halves of 
china bowls, cracked tumblers, broken wine glasses, 
tops of teapots, and stoppers of departed decanters. 1 
say, I took a view of the dirt and devastation my 
philosophic husband had occasioned ; and there I sat, 
like ir^atience on a monument, smiling at grief; but it 
worked inwardl}'. I would almost as soon the melted 
rosin and vitriol had been in his throat, as on my dear 
marble heartli, and my beautiful carpet. It is not true 
t):iat women have no power over their own feelings; 
tor notwithstanding this provocation, I said nothing, 
or next to nothing; for I only observed, very pleasant- 
/ly, what a lady of my acquaintan2e had told me, that 
the reason why philosophers are called literary men, is 
because they make a great litter : not a word more ; 
however, the servant cleared it away, and down sat 
the philosopher. A friend dropped in soon after. " Youi 
servant, sir, how do you do ? ' "0 Lord 1 1 am al 
most fatigued to death ; I have been all the morning 
making philosophical experiments." I was now more 
hardly put to it to smother a laugh, than I had been 
just befcre to contain my rage ; my precioM went out 
soon after, and J, qm yon may auppose, mustered all my 
forces; brush**, buokata, soap, iand, limeskine, aud co 



304 FEANKL1\'S ESSAYS. 



coanut sheila, with all the powers of housewifery 
were immediately employed. I was certainly the best 
philosopher of the two ; for my experiments succeeded, 
and his did not. All was well a^aln, except my poor 
carpet — my vitriolized carpet, which still continued a 
mournful memento of philosophic fury, or rather philo- 
sophic folly. The operation was scarce over, when, in 
came my experimental philosopher, and told me, with 
all the indifference in the world, thai he had iiivited 
six gentlemen to dine with him ftt three o'clock. It 
was then past one. I complained of the short notice. 
" Poh ! poh I " said he, ** you can get a leg of Jintton, 
and a loin of veal, and a few potatoes, which will dj 
well enough." Heaven ! what a chaos must the head 
of a philosopher be ! a leg of mutton, a loin of veal, 
and potatoes I I was at loss whether I should laugh or 
be angry; but there was no time for determining: 1 
had but an hour and a half to do a world of business 
in. My carpet, which had suffered in the cause of ex- 
perimental philosophy in the morning, was destined to 
be most shamefully dishonored in the afternoon b}^ a 
deluge of nasty tobacco juice. Gentlemen em.okers 
love segars better than carpets. Think, sir, what a 
woman must endure under such circumstances ; and 
then, after all, to be reproached with her cloaulint>ss, 
and to have her whitewashings, her scuurings, at^id 
3crubbings, made the subject of ridicule ; it is more 
than patience can put up with. What I have new ex- 
hibited, is but a small specimen of the injuries we sus- ^ 
tain from the boasted superiority of men. But we will 
not be laughed out of our cleanimess. A woman would 
rather be called anything than a slut, as a man would 
rather be thought a knave than a fooL I had a great 
deal more to say, but am called away' ; we are j ist pre 
paring to whitewash, and of course I have a deal of 
business on my hands. The whitewash buckets are 
paraded, the brushes are ready, my husband has gone 
off — so much the better ; when we are upon a thorough 
cleaning, the first dirty thing to be removed, is one's 
husband. I am called for again. Adieu. 



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